Wicked Games
by Oscurita Dentro
Summary: An unusual friend of SAMCRO arrives out of the blue, and Tig is instantly drawn in. Never one to step away from a challenge, he quickly realizes that she might be his biggest trial yet. (Slightly non-canon in events/timeline, set between seasons one and two. Tig/OC)
1. Introduction: What The Wind Blew In

**Authors Notes/Please Read:** I've been sitting on this for a bit, started writing randomly one night when I had the flu, and it's since blossomed into a bunch of ideas that I'm now trying to work into a coherent story! I haven't written in years so I'm a bit rusty!

I set the story around the break between season one and two - simply because I love how happy and "together" everyone was back then. Seems everyone hates each other now and are running out of road. So, I guess because of that it could be considered a little AU in terms of the timeline - It's pre Zobelle drama but Bobby is out of jail and Opie is still on walkabout, but will otherwise it'll stick with the SOA story and will fall in line with show eventually.

Obviously, it's a Tig story and isn't for kids, so if you're underage - get gone! As I write, I also use music to inspire me, so for those of you who want the full experience, I'll add links in my profile to the songs that I used to create each chapter - a soundtrack of sorts.

I wanted to do something a bit different with my OC, and her character was inspired by the strong women who have graced this world and shown men how tough and smart women can be. The likes of: Joan of Arc, Mary Wollstonecraft, Emmeline Pankhurst, Margret Thatcher, Maria Santos Gorrostietta, Angela Davis, Karen Brady, Gina Carano and my good friend Kris, who spent most of her life running with wolves and is a constant source of inspiration and support.

Also, the sheer genus that is Kurt Sutter for all things SOA and this quote_: "I believe that eventually the need for grace, compassion and intelligence (women) will overtake the current system of aggression, arrogance and ego (men). Women will run everything. As God intended."_ Although the OC in this story is aggressive, I hope to give her (like Sutter gave Tig) some degree of compassion and sensitivity in times that cause for rough justice.

Obviously, I don't own anything SOA related or any of the songs used, but original characters and ideas/concepts are mine. There will be naughty words, bloody violence and smutty scenes, so be warned.

And before anyone says anything - It's rare, but there actually are a few patched women in one percenter MC's. A female president of a male club is extremely unlikely but I think if women have proven one thing since the dawn of time, it's that they can do anything they put their mind too. So please give the concept/story a chance.

**If you read, please let me know what you think and if you want to see more - and I'll get on it!**

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**Wicked Games** || Introduction || **What The Wind Blew In**

It was another average day at Teller-Morrow automotive. Hazy afternoon sunshine poured down on the yard, which was filling up with cars waiting to be fixed or picked up by their respective owners. Tig, Bobby, and Chibs were busy working on two cars and a bike, under orders of Piney who was up to his eyes in paperwork and keys inside the office. The job list was loaded with soccer mom cars and touring bikes needing to be looked over and tuned up for family summer vacations and college road trips. Energetic rock music from the radio and drinking on the job helped take the edge off the work load but there was always room for distraction - e_specially for Tig._

His ears had pricked up, at the distant yet familiar, sound of a thunder-header that seemed to be drawing in on the lot. He knew Jax and Clay were in the clubhouse. Juice and Half-Sack were out on a job in the tow truck and wouldn't be back for at least another hour. Happy was on the lot, checking over his bike having just rode in from seeing his mom out in Oakland. With Opie still on walkabout dealing with Donna's death, most everyone was accounted. Friends of the club and hang-arounds had day jobs and usually only came by after dark - or when shit was about to hit the fan.

Curious, Tig wiped his hands on a rag and wandered over to the garage doors, leaning his shoulder against the wall as he watched the compounds gate, waiting on guard to see who was rolling in. The rumble drew closer and closer until a bike appeared. Floating into the lot came a V-Rod - if he wasn't mistaken at such a distance. Blacked out, with specifically placed chrome pieces that sparkled in the sun like diamonds. It was a nice bike, but it was the rider that really drew his eye. Wearing slim fitting dark blue jeans with wallet chain attached. Legs tucked into black, chin high biker boots, an oversized khaki fatigue jacket on top. He watched through narrowed eyes as the rider backed up the bike into the spot nearest to the clubhouse. Killing the engine before reaching up to remove their helmet - suddenly freeing collarbone length dark hair. Tig's eyes widened uncertain of what he was seeing for a moment before the breeze blew back the sides of the jacket, to reveal a glimpse of a slim torso and a pair of pert breasts concealed in a black tank top. The sight left no doubt.

He felt the presence of Chibs and Bobby draw close to stand beside him, his curiosity drawing their interest also. "That a woman..." Tig said, more statement than question. His mind incoherent as he watched the rider dismount the bike, tucking her gloves into the back pocket of her jeans.

Chibs rolled his eyes. "No? I thought it was it's some poor bastard with moobs!" He said, deadpan for a beat. "...'Course it's a woman, ya muppet!" He rolled his eyes, already able to sense where his brothers mind was going. They stood together watching as the unidentifiable woman made her way into the clubhouse. Beyond curious and borderline desperate, Tig moved straight out to where she'd parked up as soon as the door fell closed behind her.

For a moment Bobby and Chibs just watched him, mindful of what he was planning to do, but with a glance at one another, they knew the best thing was to stay close. Moving quickly, they caught up to Tig, standing besides the bike as he eyed it curiously. He was right, it _was_ a Harley V-Rod, with a unique paint job - a deep black that shone red in the sunshine. The usual chrome parts were blacked out, which made the silvery accessories pop. There were a multitude of spikes, studs, skulls, and stars all fitted to whatever part could be customized. The sight of the embellishments made Bobby raise his eyebrows as he moved to check out the tail light which was covered by a shell, a chrome skull from which the red of the break light would shine from its eyes and mouth.

"Looks like you might be related to this broad!" He teased Tig, knowing well enough the accessories he had chosen for his own bike. Tig growled low, he didn't like it. No good had ever come of a woman who rode her own bike, and he'd never seen a bike so high-end and customized for an amateur. He knew at the sight of it that it could only mean bad things.

"Shyte!" Chibs exclaimed. "I think I know who this is!" Pointing at the MC insignia on the far side of the fuel tank. A stylized horned skeleton in a red robe, a halo of light beams which formed into the silhouettes of skulls behind its head. A combat shotgun in one hand and a huge blade in the other, putting one weapon over the other, forming a cross. Bobby nodded knowingly, things becoming clear for him too. Despite recognizing the art work himself - Tig was still clueless about who the woman was.

"Who?" Tig demanded.

"You remember Henry the Wall?" Chibs asked.

Tig nodded, easily recalling a man who was named so for his imposing height and frame. "Devil's Saints!" He confirmed. "He was in with us on that Utah thing a few years back, right?"

"That's right!" Chibs confirmed, ready to continue but Tig cut in.

"He's been dead, what? A year? Two?" Tig frowned, wondering what Chibs was getting at.

"Yeah! But his daughter is still alive and I hear The Saints are doing pretty well." Chibs told.

He took a moment to process that. He'd worked with Henry a few times over the years but he was unable to recall ever seeing a girl with him or the Saints. "Why would his daughter be coming round here?" Tig frowned, feeling like he was completely out of the loop.

"Dunno." Bobby put in, making sure not to vocalize his growing concern. "I spoke to Eddie Franklyn a month or so back..." The men knew the name, a lone wolf biker who worked with numerous crews but was loyal to none. "He said she's been running that club like clockwork _and_ has an iron fist. Can't imagine why she'd be here, not without her boys at least."

"What a minute!" Tig growled. "You're telling me that piece of pussy is playing dress up as the Saints' pres?"

Bobby nodded. "She's earned her stripes Tiggy!"

Tig grunted bluntly before mumbling. "I thought Happy was fuckin' with me!" Recalling the story the nomad had once told him about a female biker who was headed for a presidents patch. He was starting to wish he'd paid more attention to the story, rather than dismissing it the way he had. "...Like a biker myth or some shit!"

"A myth that'd cut your balls off and send them to your momma with a fruit basket if she heard you say that!" Bobby said matter-of-factly. Tig swallowed hard, he didn't know if the potential power of this woman turned him on, or scared the shit out of him.

Like the others, Chibs' interest was already piqued. It looked as if the afternoon would be more exciting that he first imagined. "Let's get in there and see what's going on."

The three men quickly headed into the clubhouse, just in time to see what was happening near the bar, as mysterious woman was bought into a welcoming hugs with Jax and then Clay. Their greeting just loud enough for Tig and company to overhear.

"It's good to see you safe. I miss your old man, he was a good friend." Clay said warmly.

She nodded gratefully. "He told me if I ever needed help, I should come to SAMCRO."

Clay patted her shoulder softly. "He was right. You just tell me what you need."

"Think we should sit down."

He nodded guiding her over to a table as he looked towards the door, where the three nosy faces were peering in over. "What you three gawping at? Get back to work!" He ordered.

The young woman looked over at the three faces, two of whom she recognized well enough, one who seemed familiar but she couldn't place. Her blue eyes locked with his for a moment, and for Tig - time slowed down to a stop.

She was beautiful. Couldn't have been older than her mid twenties. Striking, with glacial blue eyes, ringed by smoky eyeliner and mascara. Deep, almost chestnut colored brown hair that fell to her collarbone in choppy layers. Smooth, soft skin with the slightest hint of Mediterranean coloring - from her mother's side. Full pink lips, which sent Tig's mind straight to impure thoughts as he let his eyes run down her body, taking her all in. Tall and slim but she looked like she could throw a good punch, and probably take one too. The swell of her chest and glimpse of cleavage peeking out from the scoop neck of her tank top indicated a nice rack. Short, squared off nails painted black, various silver rings on most of her fingers and both thumbs. He couldn't see much skin, but it looked like she had some kind of swirly design tattoo, half spilling onto the back of her hand while the rest ran up under her sleeve. His eyes were taken by the patches on her jacket, real military insignia - her fathers he assumed. The strip above her heart confirmed that Chibs was right - faded black letters spelled out the name JERICHO. This was The Wall's daughter, not that she looked like her father in any sense. Tig barely had his eyes on her for less than a minute but already he had visions of what it would be like to pull her out of the jacket, strip those tight jeans off her hips and fuck her brains out. Dark, torrid thoughts began to drag him under as his eyes roamed back up to meet with hers. The fire he saw instantly clothes-lined his runaway mind and made his manhood shrivel. It felt as if she could see right inside his head and there was no mistaking the fact that she did not like what she saw there.

"There a problem?" Jax asked. The VP's voice tore Tig's eyes off her and he shook his head.

"Narh man, I'm going!" He defended, giving her one last look over, seeing the flames were still alive in her blue eyes.

Reluctantly he retreated out of the clubhouse and made his way back to the garage. He cast a glance to her bike again as he passed, and felt his eyes narrow. Not knowing who this woman was, or what was going onto inside the clubhouse was quick to start driving him crazy. He stomped back to work, lighting up a cigarette to settle the tense thoughts and feelings going through him. His senses told him she was bringing trouble, but she looked like something he needed to get tangled up in - _and fast!_

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An hour or so passed and Tig was visibly uneasy and restless. He barely engaged in banter with Happy, who had come in to the garage to decompress from his long ride into Charming. Tig wanted nothing to distract him, he couldn't stand to miss something. He kept one eye on the clubhouse door and one on the car he was _barely_ working on. He wouldn't be able to concentrate until she left, and then it would probably still be difficult for the rest of the day. He didn't know who this chick was, but she had his mind in overdrive.

Even when Juice and Half-Sack showed up from a repo, Tig didn't drop his watch on the happenings at the clubhouse. It was his job to deal with danger and he was already starting to feel that she was exactly that.

"What's up with him?" Asked Juice, curious as to what had Tig so strung out.

"He's seen something he wants!" Bobby answered quietly.

"Female pres man..." Tig mumbled disbelief, the first word he'd spoken in almost an hour. "How wrong is that shit?"

Juice was surprised and thought for a second, then shrugged. "I dunno, I guess we all gotta move with the times."

"You talking about Leni Jericho?" Happy asked, his friends silence becoming clear.

Chibs nodded. "She's in the clubhouse talking to Jax and Clay..."

"I worked with her a few times with Tacoma. She's a good girl. Tough. Smart. And mean as a snake!" Happy informed, giving her a seal of approval but it did nothing to impress Tig.

He saw that as more of a personal challenge than reason to step off. "It's wrong man, I'm telling you!" He grumbled on.

"He's just pissed because she's offends his masculinity!" Chibs teased.

"Bullshit!" Tig snapped. "You can't go letting women in. It's just not done! Before you know it we'll be smuggling lipsticks and tampons. And taking Victoria Secret gift cards as payment."

The boys laughed. Part of each of them agreeing on some level, but they were all open enough to considering the possibility that a woman could hold her own in the dangerous league of biker gangs. Some women had proven they could be both physically and mentally strong enough to live a life of crime, but very few were able to handle all the ugly evil that came along with it.

The stir the woman caused was quickly over of most of the men, yet Tig remained on century duty, taking to standing by the garage door - lost in his thoughts while everyone else pulled their weight on the workload. Juice and Half-Sack took to the office to file the repo documents they had, while Happy assisted Chibs on a bike rebuild. The mechanics didn't give the clubhouse goings on another thought, trusting that if it concerned them they'd be informed in due course. Tig however, just couldn't get past it and his impatience grew more unbearable with each second that passed.

"You gonna do some Goddamn work today, or you just gonna stand there like a spare part?" Piney barked from the office door, annoyed that Tig wasn't doing his bit.

The sergeant-at-arms groaned but had enough problems without adding butting heads with his workmates to the list. So, he pulled himself away from the door and dejectedly picked up a wrench. Trying his best to stop himself visualizing her eyes, her chest, her legs, her hips. So many questions about the power she had, what skills she'd developed, what things she'd done for her club, how had she taken the top seat. She was already worming so deep into his head and he hated it! - _Goddamn it, who was this bitch!_

As if someone was addressing his unspoken desperation, he had barely put metal to metal when Jax was at the garage doorway commanding attention.

"Down tools for a few guys. We got some shit to discuss." He told and made a start straight back to the clubhouse. Relieved that his answers were finally coming, Tig tossed his spanner onto the work bench with a clang and took off after him, quick as a flash.

Bobby let out a heavy breath, a feeling of foreboding falling on him as he glanced around the men who were left to pack up. "This should be interesting..."

**A/N: If you made it this far, and would like to see more. Please let me know!**


	2. Chapter 1: Heavy Is The Head

**A/N: **First of all, thanks to everyone for the reviews, PM's, favourites and follows. Please keep 'em coming! It magically makes more chapters! :o)

I wanted to add some links to the songs that helped to inspire the story/characters but unfortunately the website won't let me link them right here, so I've just listed the titles of the songs and if you want to listen as you read - there are links on my profile.  
In this chapter you'll find out a little more about Leni, her MC and what she needs from SAMCRO. Also, the battle of wits begins between her and Tig. Enjoy!

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**Story Themes: ** Wicked Game by H.I.M (A Chris Isaak Cover)

Possession by Evans Blue (A Sarah McLachlan Cover)

**Tig's Theme:** Eat You Alive by Limp Bizkit

**Leni's Theme:** Glory Box by Portishead

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**Empire by Alpines**

_I'm building an empire  
I'm building with my body and soul  
I'm building an empire  
So little time and so much to lose  
And they'll say this is as good as it gets  
So why you wasting your blood your sweat your tears_

**Wicked Games **|| Chapter 1 ||** Heavy Is The Head That Wears The Crown.**

The young woman watched poker faced as the Sons of Anarchy MC shuffled into the clubhouse and took seats around her and their leaders in the bar room. Those that knew her well enough, greeted her warmly. A hug from Piney and Happy. Pats on the arm from Bobby and Chibs, who she'd met once or twice in the line of duty. Shy smiles from Juice and Half-Sack who had never crossed her path before. Most of the men didn't seem in the lease bit phased to be meeting with her - all except for Tig who scowled defensively at her _and_ the situation in general.

"For those of you who don't know. This is Leni Jericho. Henry the Wall's daughter. Devils Saints president." Tig rolled his eyes the instant that word came out of Clay's mouth. He refused to believe a one percent MC would allow a woman to lead them. She seemed too young to have enough experience and knowledge for command. Sure, she looked tougher than the average woman on the street but she was completely missing the imposing presence that the men around her had. She looked small, sitting encircled by so many men of intimidating size and character. Tig couldn't understand _how_ she lead her own pack of bikers or _why _they had allowed her too. To Tig, it seemed like insanity.

As a little friendly chatter broke out around the table and Tig took the distraction as a chance to examine her. She was even prettier close up, thick dark hair framing her face, her alluring blue eyes, soft pink lips - Tig's mind quickly started to drift into torrid seas but he snapped it back sharply. His gaze dropped from her face, landing on her hands and the black nail polish on short, manicured nails. The sight of which got his back up straight away- _'No way does she get her hands dirty!'_ He growled to himself as his ever observant eyes quickly ran over the selection of rings she wore. Various designs with skulls, a bat, crosses, stars and other symbols of silver. Smaller and more feminine than the ones he and the other bikers wore, but no less menacing. Now her jacket was off her could see she was wearing several black leather bracelets and silver bangles around one wrist, while a cuff watch and ink adorned her left. So much closer to her that when their worlds first collided - he could see the finer details of some of her tattoos. The strange design that touched on the back of her left hand before wrapping its way up her forearm - twisty and sharp lines, slightly tribal but softer and more delicate. Embellished with skulls and stars of various sizes, pretty shading and shadow from clever dot work - it looked as if the ink was glitter. Definitely something he'd expect to see on a crow, but an MC president? _It didn't seem to fit!_ She raised up her hand to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, revealing two studs in her earlobe, a conch piercing filled by a silver ring with a tiny skull in the middle and a small ornate cuff in the top cartilage. She certainly didn't seem to be averse to pain. Tig also noticed a couple of scars on the outer side of her forearm, jagged white marks that were possibly from a knife or broken glass. He growled at himself - angry that he cared enough to wonder what happened.

While the men around him lit cigarettes, ready to listen to her plight - Tig continued to investigate her. Looking at the delicate ethnic pattern on the blade of her hand right hand, matching that which was inked along her the inside of her trigger finger and thumb. On her right forearm was an old school style tattoo - a small but detailed a revolver, laying in front of a beautiful red orchid which in turn was surrounded by a rosary of skulls. Above the design was an artistic font spelling out "Requiescat In Pace". He never studied a word of Latin, but he knew what it meant. All her ink seemed too girly but the words with the gun seemed dark - almost sinister. A rest in peace blessing the arm of her trigger hand? _That was cold!_ Little did he know, the tattoo was in fact a memorial to her mother. However, she would've been pleased to know he found it unsettling. His keen eyes could see more ink sat on her upper left arm but he was at the wrong angle see properly. From what he could tell, he was pretty sure it couldn't be her MC's mark. He knew she had to have one somewhere, every member of a club did. Then again, he guessed that maybe she had changed _that_ rule too, when she got her club to rewrite their rule book.

Tig was about to open his mouth and lay his thoughts on the table when Clay took command of the scene again. "Most of you know what went down with Henry..." Clay was talking about how Leni's father had been gunned down during a _supposedly_ friendly transaction. Leaving her to pick up the pieces and keep their businesses and motorcycle club running and advancing the way he would have. No one knew the ropes the way she did, over the years she had become her father's right hand. Originally involved with the club in a bid to stop her from going completely off the rails in her late teens - Henry had convinced his followers to allow her in as a prospect. His way of keeping her close so he could watch over her. At first he was uncomfortable with the risks she was surrounded by and the way she excelled at every challenge they set her. Getting knocked down and coming back tougher than ever before. Determined to prove her worth to every man who sought to question it. It didn't take long before her grit encouraged Henry to embrace the strength his daughter showed. He resolved to teach her every skill she would need to survive in the world she was forced to live in, because of his life choices. Despite her age and gender, her loyalty and dedication to the club made her a natural choice for leader and it _had _been going well. Until a dark cloud descended from out of nowhere. "...Now things are blowing up now and Leni needs our help." Clay told, allowing her to take the floor.

"The bottom line is fella's..." Tig felt warmth run through him at the sound of her voice so close. Light and feminine but it had a slight rasp to it, suggesting she smoked too much and shouted a lot. "... big trouble is brewin' in Sacramento." It was no surprise to the bikers - they guessed she hadn't come over to invite them to a party. They kept out of big city as much as possible, knowing over-developed urban areas meant _major_ competition and heat for all angles. "I've had a handle on everythin' since my dad was killed but these last few weeks..." She hesitated for a beat, she didn't want to get into the details of the drive-by's, ambushes, home invasions and attacks that had sparked up out of nowhere. "...Seems like somebody suddenly got a hard on for my club..." The faces of the men showed interest, they hadn't heard about any drama but it was obviously something bad; you didn't reach out like this unless it was your last resort. "... We're comin' under attack at every corner...I've just buried three patched members and I got two more in hospital..." Her voice halted, hating how it felt to say those words. It tasted like failure. Tig had kept his eyes on her, trying to silently unnerve her but when he saw her lose focus for a moment, it shook him instead. He saw the slightest hint of sadness in her eyes, for just a split second before she dragged it back down - locking it away. "...Every man I got left is busy holdin' things down, protecting our interests. 'Cause now we're weakened, we got assholes comin' out the woodwork, tryin' to get a piece and we could be on the verge of a turf war..." She took a drag from her cigarette, using the moment to settle that which was being stirred up inside her. "...The trouble blew up out of nowhere...the fuckers that show up, guns blazing don't seem to be gang affiliated and we've taken hits from black, brown _and_ white! So someone has to be orchestratin' it...and that makes me really unsure about who to trust right now." She wasn't entirely certain she should trust SAMCRO. There was history and a solid friendship between the two clubs but it was no guarantee of security. However, her back was against the wall and the reaper was her best hope for an ally. "Friends are thin on the ground..." She continued. "... And to keep people onside I need to keep makin' money...and that's gettin' harder and harder. These random attack are screwin' things up at every turn...I need to find out who's behind it - _fast_!" Rival gangs and business owners taking advantage of the holes forming in Saints structure was to be expected. Yet personal attacks on the Saints and their business deals was something darker than rivaling factions. "My VP is locked up and doesn't get out for a couple more months, at this rate he's gonna to come home to a bloodbath." Some of the men knew the Saint's VP. Johnny Alvaro; a biker in his early thirties and branded with an ugly reputation for ruthlessness and arrogance. Knowing he was removed from the situation made the idea of helping Leni a little more attractive. "Everyone else on the outside is pluggin' up the holes. The way things are, I can't pull a guy out without leavin' a weak point. And unfortunately, I want to stay alive - so I can't make runs or walk into rival territory without back up...Which makes gettin' answers pretty impossible without help." She took another draw from her cigarette and tried to ignore the blue eyes that were attempting to bore into her soul. "...If I call in support from the charters out east, I doubt they'd get here in time to stop this before it really blows up." She took a moment to look around the faces in front of her. All handsome, strong men. Dangerous men - that should have struck fear into her heart and curiosity into her head, but she knew their lives. She walked the same road - blood on her hands, demons on her back. It scared her to think of what she'd done in the name of her club and she couldn't begin to imagine what lengths these men had gone to for the benefit of Sam Crow. "So..." She continued, snapping away from the dark thoughts that frequently tried so hard to plague her mind. "...I guess I'm comin' to you because I need muscle... with my guys tied down and me wonderin' who the hell I can really trust... I got not one to help find out who's shit-list we're on!" She hated to have to ask for protection in such a way. Part of her wanted to go it alone, walk into the wolves den and hope she could shoot her way out of things went sour, but she knew from past experience how foolish that was. She had no choice but to admit defeat and make a call to arms.

"Any idea where to start?" Chibs spoke up, feeling surprisingly sympathetic.

She shook her head. "These attacks on my crew - it's some honor-less, personal shit! And I have no idea who's pullin' the strings. I seriously doubt that every bad guy in the Sac-Town just decided to team up and start rainin' down shit on my club... So someone's got to be buyin' in their help. But with all these puppet clubs and street corner gangs smelling the blood, and taking fuckin' advantage, they're really muddyin' up the waters. So it could be anyone from Freddie the Hot Dog guy to Donald fuckin' Trump, for all we can tell right now." Chibs tried not to smile, he couldn't help but like her. They'd crossed paths on a job or two before and although she wasn't MC hierarchy back then, she showed great potential. And he knew it took guts to admit you were struggling. He could see in her eyes that she had to swallow a whole lot of pride to come to the Sons.

Leni looked at the rest of the men, trying not to notice the wild haired one who was _still_ staring holes into her. "I know I'm asking a lot pulling you guys into this shit, but I'm running out of road,_ and_ friends...My dad always told me if I ever needed anything, I should speak to Sam Crow."

"He was right!" Piney put in. "He was a good man. He did a lot for this club over the years." Piney looked to Clay for confirmation and he gave a nod.

Henry had been a great friend to Clay during their time in Vietnam. When Clay got out of the forces, Henry stayed on. Building a decorated military career for many years before being dishonorably discharged in the early eighties after an incident in the middle east that took out his unit. Shortly after returning to civilian life he - like so many other ex-military men, left feeling lost and betrayed by their country - began a rebellion in the form of a motorcycle club. The Devils Saints mother charter was born in Georgia and steadily several others popped up along the east coast. Then, when Leni was ten, her father decided it was time to make the brave move and breach the west. He took Leni and a couple of trusted Saints and successfully formed the charter that was now under her rule. Henry had run a tight, successful ship - until he trusted the wrong person. A simple, but fatal error that Leni did not care to repeat. Fortunately for her, history meant much to Clay and he would not deny his friends daughter in her time of need. Primarily out of respect to Henry, honour to their friendship, but also he felt a bizarre sense of responsibility. He knew how hard Leni had fought to be considered an equal in their circle. She'd earned respect and he didn't like to see her under fire, backed into a corner.

"You know..." Bobby spoke up. "I really hate to ask this Leni, but what's in this for us."

She gave Bobby a soft, understanding smile. She knew him fairly well, he was one of the good ones and she took no offense to him asking. "Well, you know we've got a bunch of legit businesses. A tow company, body shop, a couple of salvage yards. The pawn shop and the Flaming Ace." The men knew the name well, a bar for high stakes protected poker games in the basement. Fine ass strippers upstairs. Music and booze on the main floor for locals who loved to party. In addition to the bricks and mortar businesses, the Devils Saints covered a large amount of private and industrial security and protection gigs. Each business her father build up was useful for their MC in some way. Run independently from the club itself, but relying heavily on its members and associates for staffing and defense. "For a little help on runs and gettin' some answers, I'm gonna cut y'all in for twenty percent of all the profits for as long as it takes to get things back on track. Also, I've got a secure weapons pipeline, a few dummy corps and what not, which I'm happy to bring you in on if you want it." The men allowed that to sink in. They were always looking for legitimate sources of revenue to fill the safe and places to store the products of their own weapons deals. And when the work load was light at Teller-Morrow and their own club's business was quiet, the guys were practically falling over themselves looking for something to do.

Clay spoke up. "That would make it so none of us are hurtin' for money for a while and it would solve a couple of club problems. But Leni here is willing to sweeten the pot..." He allowed her to take back the stage, having already discussed her offer at great length.

"We've been involved in a diamond smugglin' operation for a while now..." She paused for a beat. "..._Well_...I say _'smuggling operation'_, but my end of it sways more toward _hijacking_." She gave that a second to settle and saw no aversion from the faces before her. "I know what trucks are runnin' the stones from the Mexican border through to Canada. I got a buyer for 'em but I can't spare the man power to make the bust happen. If you guys can help me out with that, I'm willin' to throw you a slice of it. Maybe put some connections and business your way too." The men exchanged glances, they liked the sound of the money but the risk was something they needed to consider.

"Are you messin' with Russians again?" Happy asked knowingly.

Leni looked to him and smiled. "_Maybe_!" Tig almost growled out loud, not only did all his brothers seem like putty in her hands but now she and Happy had some kind of inside joke going on. His last nerve was getting mighty sore. "Before the bust can happen..." She continued. "I need to work a few things out but it won't take long to set up if you guys want in." Every man sitting in front of her knew how lucrative the diamond trade could be and it certainly was a selling point. "The main thing is - I need backup to fix shit for my club. I gotta find whoever the fuck is behind these attacks and cut his Goddamn head off!" She growled and a few half smiles curled around the table. "And for the record... I won't need any help with the latter part." A chorus of soft chuckles filtered out but still Tig remained cold. He didn't like this broad, even thought he'd caught a glimpse of sadness - maybe even vulnerability, she still seemed far too confident for her own good. He already hated how she managed to do that while begging for help.

"What's the catch?" Half-Sack asked, hoping he wasn't speaking out of turn by asking what everyone was thinking.

"No catch." She smiled lightly. "Well...maybe one...you gotta put up with me." She shrugged. "Cope with a woman doin' shit you don't normal see or _want_, women to do. That's hard for most guys to handle."

"Not a problem!" Chibs offered.

"I can deal!" Juice added. "They got women all over now...army and shit..." Happy and Half-Sack nodded in agreement.

Leni looked to Piney for his opinion. "I don't like the situation you're in sweetheart. I know if you don't get help here you'll find someone who might not have your best intentions in mind, so I'm glad you came to us." She gave him a grateful smile but as attention fell to Tig the relief in her eyes faded.

"I don't like this shit." He said flatly. "Some broad gets a biker Barbie play-set for her birthday one year and suddenly she's all swingin' dick, shot caller! Fuck that!" He said looking Leni dead in the eye. There was a time -not so long ago- when talk like that would've caused her to blow up. The wild and reckless side of her that she tried so hard to learn to control. Fortunately for Tig, she was cooler headed now - knew how to manage her rage and command her urges. That restraint made it so she didn't outwardly show irritation at his words, but inside -where she didn't feel much of anything anymore - a fire was being stoked under her caged temper. She should have know there would be one cog that tried to turn the opposite way!

The room fell silent, tension building rapidly as the two bikers stared at each other with eyes cold as arctic waters. Having bigger problems than the curly-haired idiot before her, she broke the standoff. Slowly letting her eyes drop from his, down to his chest. The action was subtle, but somehow it knocked Tig's nerve. She was defiant in the face of confrontation, in his experience - that was unusual from a woman. Something caught Leni's eye and the pieces suddenly fell into place. The name embroidered into his gray shirt gave it all away. The man before her was none other than Alexander "Tig" Trager. She had never crossed his path, but they ran in the same circles. She'd heard his name a few times, mostly in crude anecdotes that were passed around at motorcycle shows, communal events and inter-club business. The SAMCRO Sergeant-at-Arms; feared and revered. A dangerous, ruthless man. Headstrong yet remarkably loyal. A sexual deviant loaded with misogynistic tendencies. A unique character, even for their world. He wasn't someone one she would have chosen to go up against but that was the hand he'd dealt her. If he was going to make things difficult, she was more than happy to shoot him down. Playing men like him was something she'd list as a hobby.

"How'd you know?..." She asked, breaking the tension of the moment. "I loved that play-set." She teased, pushing his buttons straight away as his scowl deepened. He didn't like the back chat. "Barbie had this little replica kutte and a toy Harley that revved when you pressed a button. It was awesome. You had to buy her MC separately though." The guys wondered if she was being serious for a second, until they saw the soft, yet provoking smile spread across her lips. Her casual yet snide comeback bit hard on Tig's irritability. He didn't like to be cut down like that by anyone, _especially_ not a gash like her.

"I don't make deals with bitches."

"HEY!" Clay barked, stopping things from escalating. "Show some Goddamn respect!"

Leni looked back to Clay, exchanged a look that thanked him for his support before looking back to Tig, with eyes that told him he was on thin ice. A look that turned Tig on and fired him up for a fight at the same time. It was obvious she needed to be taught a lesson about how women should really behave.

"We're putting it to the vote, right now!" Jax told the table as he got up, ready to put an end to Tig's bullshit before it started.

Knowing the rules as well as anyone, Leni remained seated as the Sons rose to their feet and followed Jax and Clay into the chapel. Her eyes locked on Tig's, threatening with challenge. She knew that as a business deal - the decision didn't have to be unanimous to pass. Which was lucky, because she knew she had a "nay" in Tig. Yet, despite their face off she felt fairly confident her offer would be accepted. However, she learned the hard way to never count eggs before they hatched. So, she picked up her beer and sat back, hoping Sam Crow wouldn't snap off the limb she was out on.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Seated at the redwood table, Clay made sure he reiterated Leni's predicament and explained a little of her background to those that didn't know - or had forgotten. Her club was based in small town named Tacenda, which was just off the Garden Highway, less than ten minutes north of Sacramento - where she ran most of her businesses. Her hand was spread wide in a major city, which Clay knew was a risky way of doing business, but also a lucrative one. The towing company gave her access to a wealth of vehicles and license plates. The salvage business meant there was a way to dispose of residual problems from MC business and a way to transport illegal supplies. Even the security work had its advantages, providing her with legitimate access to confidential information that would otherwise be difficult to obtain. The pawn shop proved to be a great way to launder money and the nightclub was the base of firearms operations. Hidden in plain sight and secured by bouncers and cameras. The Saints were smart enough to conduct business at night, when the heaving night crowds made a Fed raid difficult - if not impossible. Henry had built an empire and although there were general managers and staff for each business, all the responsibilities eventually fell back on Leni - and Clay felt for her. He knew she'd put in sweat, tears and plenty of blood to get the respect of the Devils Saints and he had to admire her tenacity. She was tough, smart and ballsy but she was still a young woman and the protective, paternal side of him would be damned if he turned his back on her.

"Working with her could open a lot of doors for us. And she's a ball breaker, we probably won't even have to put up hands." Clay joked. "Remember when she helped us out with that Livermore thing back in oh-one?" A few heads around the table nodded in reminiscence.

"And where was I?" Tig growled.

"Neck deep in booze and pussy, probably!" Piney gave. Tig nodded, owning it.

"I think you were up in Oregon..." Jax recalled.

"Interfering with cattle!" Happy put in, remembering the story Tig returned with well enough. Tig smiled for a second, thinking back but quickly replaced the grin with his stern face.

"She was younger then..." Clay said. "Bit wet behind the ears but she held her own... I want to help her sort this shit out. And this diamond thing could set us up good." He paused for a moment, observing the faces of his brothers. He knew the opinions had already been formed, silent votes already cast and so he ended the discussion. "All those in favor of helping her out with whatever she needs?" He put and all eyes went to Tig who had his distaste written all over his face.

"The only time you get into bed with a woman is for sex. You let girls in our tree house and it'll all go to shit! And I ain't getting killed for this gash! Nay!" He rejected, guessing it was probably pointless but standing his ground anyway. If only so he could say _'told you so'_ when it all went belly up.

Chibs looked thoughtful, he understood where Tig was coming from but he also appreciated she needed their help and how it would benefit them. "Yay!" He said and Tig turned his head to him, cutting a look of disgust.

"We owe a lot to her father and the Saints. On a club level and a personal one." Piney looked to Clay who knew exactly what he was getting at. "Yay!"

The table looked to Happy next. "I worked with her a few times up north. She's got balls and she's bringing big money. Yay!" Tig couldn't believe what he was hearing. Out of everyone he was sure Happy wouldn't hold with this shit.

"Yay!" Juice nodded. He was curious to see what she could bring to the MC.

Bobby had thought a lot in the minutes it took for the vote to reach him. "Like Piney said...if she doesn't get help from us, she'll go elsewhere. I don't want to regret turning her away." He paused for a moment, visions of what might happen if she was left to go it alone - something told him she would. "Yay!" He confirmed, most of him simply keen to help her out, but a small part of him just wanted to fuck with Tig.

"Yay!" Jax said simply.

"Seven to one...it passes!" Clay slammed the gavel down.

Instantly Tig barked out - "This is bullshit!" and pushed away from the table to stand up and walk away, before he broke something.

It came as no surprise to see that Tig was the first to storm out of the chapel. Cutting a dirty look to Leni who was sitting where they left her, finishing her cigarette. She looked up and watched as the other men filtered out behind Jax. "It passed darlin', we'll help you out!" He smiled.

She blew out a sigh of relief. "Thank you!" She smiled as he pulled her in for a brief hug, before she was passed around the men for the dance of informal welcomes - taking a few minutes to chat to the guys she knew well enough to have a stretch of common ground with. It felt a little overwhelming to know she now had yet more men to deal with - men she had no control over but she was encouraged by their warmth.

As she broke from a hug with Piney, Leni nodded over to Tig, who stood at the bar knocking back a beer. "I take it he didn't yay me in?"

Piney shook his head with a smile. "He'll get over it once his panties un-bunch." He guided her over to the table where Half-Sack was laying out fresh drinks, glancing back at the Sergeant-at-Arms. He was visibly pissed and everyone kept out of his way. Piney didn't understand what his problem was, the deal was a good one and he thought Tig would love to have a pretty woman to ogle but he guessed he was wrong. The electricity buzzed off Tig, a little aggression and a heavy dash of unwelcome arousal. This bitch and her mouth were going to bring a shit-storm, in more ways than one.

**A/N:** A bit of fun trivia...Tacenda is a Latin word meaning "things not to be mentioned" or "unspoken/silent". Thought it was a fitting name for a small town that is home to a small section of outlaw society.

**If you took the time to get this far, please let me know what you thought - **_**good or bad!**_


	3. Chapter 2: Timebomb

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for the feedback. Means a lot! Hope you enjoy this instalment - it's pretty mammoth!**

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

**Undaunted** by **Adrenaline Mob**

**Two Pieces of Drama** by **Everlast**

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_Two pieces of drama__  
__The hammer's bout' to fall__  
__Two pieces of drama__  
__There's __gunplay__ in the hall__  
__Two pieces of drama__  
__Make peace with your momma, the __consequence__ is dire__  
__Two pieces of drama__  
__Boy you know not to play with fire_

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Two || **Time-bomb**

After the vote, the men took a chance to relax, drink and chat - team building SAMCRO style. Happy and Juice stood around the pool table - trying to convince Chibs and Half-Sack to stump up for a wager. Jax had taken off for domestic reasons, leaving Clay, Piney and Bobby talking with Leni over a beer. Standing by himself at the bar - Tig monitored Leni suspiciously with brooding eyes. He didn't like what was happening, she smelled of trouble in more ways than he could count - gang warfare and diamond heists were just the tip of the iceberg. Her passion of pushing his buttons was already becoming evident and something about her made him think things between them would end bloody.

Since the vote, Leni had taken off her jacket and hung it on the back of her chair - if he wasn't mistaken her could see a kutte hanging underneath it and that made his mood darken further. He couldn't imagine a woman doing what needed to be done in order to be treated as an equal by a motorcycle club - let alone gain membership. He knew it had to all boil down to who her father was. No way would she hold the rank she had if she'd been born a true civilian. He was sure she could only have the respect of her club due to her bloodline - not her abilities. It didn't seem possible that someone like her could lead but he assumed she spent most of her time hiding behind dutiful foot-soldiers - taking the credit for their bloodied hands. Cocky and confident because she'd been raised a princess - lead to believe she was untouchable. He knew if he could get five minutes alone with her, he would show her that the pedestal she stood on so boldly - was actually just a house of cards.

As he switched positions to take a seat on a bar stood, his eyes began to trail hungrily over her body. Despite all his misgivings - he wanted her. If he could be honest with himself for a second, he knew he'd realize how the thought of fucking a woman with her status was a huge turn on. He guessed many men tried _and failed_ to get the prize between her legs. Using her cocky attitude as both a defense and a challenge against men who made a play for her. He'd seen a smart mouth like hers a few times - back chatting hookers, brash crows, an over-confident sweet butt. Nothing a slap couldn't remedy with them, yet something told him this bitch was a different kind of monster. Her rebellious eyes said that she'd get a kick out of him reacting in such a way and a tiny part of him wondered if it would be like lighting the blue touch-paper under her.

Focusing his eyes, he noted the black tank top she wore was a racer back - showing off toned arms and shoulders. It rode up a little as she sat forward, flashing a stripe of her lower back where her jeans were held in place by a pyramid stud belt. To his surprise, there was no _'tramp stamp'_ but he could now see the tattoo on her upper left arm clearly. It looked like the torso of a skeleton, flanked by a pair of wings. The right wing was plush with plumage, but the left one was black and more like a bats wing than an angels. The skull wore a sly smile, with a halo tilted to one side, floating just above a pair of horns. Tig thought it was apt - summed up a woman perfectly. All angel eyes and sunshine up front but beneath the surface there was a demon in all of them, just waiting to get out.

As Leni chatted to the men who had known her father almost as well as she had, she could feel eyes burrowing into her _again_. She didn't need to turn her head to know exactly who it was. The tall guy with the intense blue eyes and wayward hair - _Tig__Trager__ was rapidly making himself a problem._

She listened closely as Clay finished telling her, Piney and Bobby a story from battle but the burn of Tig's eyes was distracting. She knew to bide her time with him and she tried not to let it get to her as Piney took over and told about how her father would have been patched SAMCRO had he not already formed his own club. It was nice to hear things like that - it made her feel a little less uncomfortable about asking for their help. If it wasn't for the striking blue eyes burning into her, she could have allowed herself to relax at little and feel at home around the men, but his icy glare seemed to bore into her soul. She would never let him know it, but his constant observation made her feel slightly unsteady and exposed. It had been a while since she'd encountered a man who had made her feel that way. She knew he was dangerous but that wasn't anything she hadn't become accustomed to, with the men that surrounded her on a daily basis. However, there was something different about him. He was intense, complex and unpredictable - all the most troubling qualities to see in an opponent.

Needing to create a chance to confront him; hoping it would make him step off - Leni offered to get another round of drinks and they men didn't refuse. She stepped up to the bar and gave the un-patched guy who was stocking the fridges a smile and he set to work. Despite feeling the tension in the air spike, Tig didn't move and his eyes met with hers - locking onto one another intensely. Trying to erode each other's confidence.

She wasn't _that _close to him but somehow he could smell her skin - warm, fresh, fruity - like she was wearing a summer's day. It made him dislike her even more - the way the scent of her made his ever warring mind to escape to places of relaxation and pleasure. While his body remained tense and defensive.

She looked him over - the range of injury inducing rings on his fingers and the leather bracers on his wrists gave him a dark edge. The military tattoo on his arm made curiosity bite, but not hard enough for her to succumb to it. She knew enough about him already to know he would do all he could to make her time with the Sons difficult. The way he stared at her, told her he was just waiting for his next chance to belittle her and if he wanted to play those cutting games - she would meet him head on.

"Do I owe you money?" She asked suddenly.

Tig raised his eyebrows, surprised she'd spoken up - a slight hint of challenge in her voice "...'Scuse me?"

"The way you keep mad doggin' me..." She continued. "... Makes me think I owe you somethin'..."

Tig rolled his eyes away from her, biting his tongue. If they were going to start a verbal skirmish, it would be on _his_ instigation - _not hers_. Yet the way she kept her deep blue eyes on him made an aggressive reaction hard to contain. It didn't take a Shrink to help her figure out that his problem wasn't with her, in a literal sense. He didn't know her well enough to judge her as a person. It wasn't entirely about her having a presidents patch either - he wasn't under her rule and never would be. His bitterness was focused on what lay between her legs. He didn't like pussy with power, especially if he couldn't put his dick in it. "You know?..." She spoke again, effortlessly drawing Tig's eyes back to her. "Women can vote now... own land too!" She told him, knowing his attitude was rooted in archaic stereotyping and his growing intimidation towards her level of influence.

"Really?" Tig asked, playing along with her. "Next you'll be tellin' me you can piss standin' up!"

Leni let a soft, provoking smile peel across her lips. "Maybe I can!" She teased, picking up the fresh beers. Challenging him a little with her eyes, waiting for the second he opened his mouth to retaliate, then she turned and walked away.

Irritated, he clenched his jaw and watched her through narrowed eyes again - she was _really_ starting to piss him off. He hadn't intended to say a word to her but somehow she'd coaxed a reaction out of him anyway. A mix of emotions began to bubble up inside him, anger for how cocky and cool she seemed. Bitterness at how he'd helplessly fallen into a dialogue with her _again_ - one that she'd controlled entirely. Lust at how attractive, brazen and challenging she was. He couldn't deny he was drawn to her, but he knew they were gunpowder and fire. He wouldn't like to wager on if he would end up _fighting_ or _fucking_ her.

•••••••••••••••••••

It didn't take long for the dust to settle on Leni's arrival and the novelty of a new face began to wear off, as the clubhouse settled quickly into familiar scenes. Warmed with bodies and laughter as afternoon sunshine filtered in through the windows and soft rock music played in the background. Bobby and Piney had gone back to finish up at the garage, leaving Clay at the bar with Tig. Watching together as the rest of the Sons bonded a little with Leni around the pool table. Tig continued to observe her closely, trying to figure her out. She wasn't exactly center of attention - that was on prospect and his missing nut. However, just seeing her there with his brothers - involved in their banter was enough to sour him.

"Don't mess with her Tiggy!" Clay warned noticing the threat laced in the way his right-hand-man was staring at the young woman. "She's a brawler. Takes pride in handing men like you their asses! And I don't need you dead - or on life support!" Tig snorted and took another drink of his beer. He'd welcome her to try and take him on. In fact, he was considering making it happen. Nothing like throwing down to get shit leveled out.

The two men continued to watch the cluster of bikers with very different eyes. Clay observed Leni with curiosity and good will. He was glad she came to him for help and was relieved that he was in a position to offer it to her. He knew her gender would be an issue but he was also well aware that she'd proven herself to be worthy of respect, time and time again. He knew if his men looked at her impartially, saw the things she did no differently than if she were a man - there wouldn't be a problem.

Tig however, flatly refused to get behind the idea that a woman like her could do what the men of their world did. He wondered if she'd ever fired a gun, served time, or killed. He'd be willing to bet a lot of money on her never getting her hands dirty. Only successful in shady circles because of the men her daddy knew - the money and power he had. Underneath it all, she was just one of those prissy princess bitches. Women who played tough, mouthing off and throwing things but when it came down to it - they folded like cheap tents. Hiding behind someone bigger and badder when the heat got too high. She wasn't any different - _Tig__ could tell_. She liked playing the badass, but he knew she'd cave under pressure - especially if she was caught by herself. He'd also quickly come to the assumption that if she was offered a way out of t_he life _- she'd take it and destroy anyone in her path. Women were never satisfied and were always the weak point in club security. They all had a penchant for turning informant if the price was right. He just hoped that before she showed her true colors, he'd get a chance to strip her down. Find her club's tattoo and make her remember she had a pussy between her legs - not a dick.

The chirping of a cellphone drew everyone's attention to Leni as she stepped back from the pool table and pulled out her phone from her jeans pocket. "Yeah?" She asked. There was a long pause but her eyes told of trouble as they turned from blue to red. "What?" She growled - another beat passed and the steam was practically pouring out from her ears. "Jesus Christ! I'm on my way!" She snapped her phone closed and hurried back to the table where she'd left her jacket. Quickly, she pulled out her leather kutte from underneath it and threw it on as she made her break for the clubhouse door.

"What's goin' on?" Clay called after her. All the bikers were on high alert with the dramatic shift in atmosphere and stark change in her. They could almost smell the rage coming off her.

"My tow company is gettin' turned over by some fuckin' wannabe wetbacks!" She told hurrying outside - asking for help didn't enter her mind. Despite the purpose of her visit being to gain the clubs support.

Clay was quick to react. "You three!" He said, sweeping a finger between Tig, Happy and Chibs. "Go with her." On his command Chibs and Happy put their pool cues down and took off after Leni. Tig however, hesitated. Giving Clay a look that told him he was not happy about being put on protection detail. Clay simply grabbed Tig's kutte from behind the bar and tossed it to him. A silent order that his Sergeant-at-Arms accepted with a sigh. Knowing better than to argue with his boss - Tig begrudgingly followed after the small army. Bitching under his breath as he went.

Stepping out into the afternoon he saw that Leni was already on her bike and powering out of the lot with Chibs and Happy close behind. _Tig__was pissed__!_ Not only did he have to spend more time around her but now he had to ride all the way to Sacramento to go kicking someone else's shit. In his eyes, just being a friend of the club only got you so far and Leni was rapidly reaching his imposed limit.

He fastened his helmet and fired up his bike, peeling out of the lot with his two brothers ahead by half a block or more and Leni vanished further off into the distance. He didn't know why but his hand was heavy on the throttle. He told himself he didn't want to set foot in Sacramento but his control told another story as he whipped through his small town home. Rapidly catching up to, and overtaking Chibs and Happy.

Up ahead Leni hadn't spared a thought for whoever might be following as she zipped between cars on route out of Charming. Not hesitating to break every speed limit as soon as her tires touched onto Highway ninety-nine. Her fresh ponytail being whipped around behind her by the wind as she sped along with rage in her belly and fire in her heart. All she could think of was the ways in which she would kick the shit out of the guys trying to take her business - her families life's work.

Her keen, skilled eyes were sharp and kept alert for the dangers from hidden cop cars and on coming rival gangs as her anger and speed built. She glanced into her side mirrors to see a three bikes on her tail. She couldn't tell who they were, but something instinctual told her she was safe with them behind. That feeling forced her hand to go harder on the throttle. The world around her fading into a blur of color and light. The vibrations from the engine fading away to nothing but a smooth, even purr as her bike melted away into her body. She flew along - the freedom and thrill of speed pushing her closer to target.

A few yards behind her Tig was deeply focused on keeping up and following her well-chosen path through sporadic patches of traffic and dangerous sections of road. He'd stopped looking at the speed-o when he'd hit ninety. He couldn't see much else but what was fixed in front of him - Leni's slender back covered with black leather. Tailored to fit her womanly shape, cut close to define and accentuate her figure. Corset style lacing at her sides, just loose enough to allow for a concealed weapon. Her MC's patch was glaring in the sunlight, the demonic looking skeleton dressed as a saint in a blood colored robe. Her clubs name, striking in bright a red outline, the lettering etched out in black. Even at such high speeds and with death only ever a gap in concentration away, he still tasted bitterness at the back of his throat. A woman; in a kutte _and_ a presidents patch - what sense would that ever make?

•••••••••••••••••••

It was barely thirty minutes of hard, _fast _driving along the Golden State Highway before the bikers hit heavier traffic going into Sacramento's center. To the relief of the Sons, the density of cars slowed Leni's speed but did nothing to calm her desperation. She weaved in and out of the slow-moving and stationary vehicles as fast as she dared. Working her way through traffic to get to where she needed to be. The men drew up to her as close as they could get, not one of them having a clue where she was actually headed and concerned they'd lose her along the veins and arteries of the city.

Desperate to get to where she was needed, Leni whipped through the town like she was on a wire. Causing Tig, Happy and Chibs to pull out all the stops on their biking skills. They flew through the center of congestion where the biggest roads merged and filtered through into the city blocks. The sons stuck close to the path she cut, as she weaved her speeding bike through obstructions, in the way only an experienced rider could. Until suddenly, she swung a sharp left and pulled up outside a large gray building. A huge red and black sign on the wall outside read "Jericho Towing".

She ripped off her helmet and sunglasses and tucked them safely in place on her bike, before pulling a gun from under her kutte and storming up to a pair of red double doors. The guys behind her were quick off their bikes, all drawing their own weapons - not knowing exactly what to expect as Leni raced to get inside the building where war threatened to break out.

Inside the structure was cool and ten shades darker than the Californian afternoon sun outside. The four bikers converged in a small foyer and removed their eye-wear. Looking to Leni for a clue about what she planned to do but she was too fired up to formulate a sentence - let alone instruction. Instead, she stormed off down the corridor, past a couple of vending machines, through another set of double doors that lead into a lobby which was used for the handover of impounded vehicles. Inside stood a tall Latino - head-to-toe in street wear of orange, gray and black with an over-sized baseball cap turned to the side. He was too busy smoking a joint to notice he suddenly had company.

In an instant, Leni trained her gun on him. The speed and surprise of the ambush didn't allow him the chance to draw on her. With startled eyes, he just put his hands up.

"Where is he?" She barked as Tig, Chibs and Happy poured in behind her. A lit joint fell from the gangster mouth, dropping to the floor as he waved his hands around trying not to panic.

"Shit bitch! Be cool!" He cried, only to meet with three more guns pointed at him. He eyed the bikers in panic and stabbed a finger at the first of three doors along the wall.

"Pick that shit up!" Leni ordered pointing at the fading joint burning a hole into her regulation flooring, before making a move for the indicated door. The last thing she needed was the city goons coming down on her for trivial code violation bullshit. The guy looked at the bikers and instantly did as he was told - they looked far too dangerous to screw around with.

Chibs took guard at the door as the other two Sons assumed formation behind Leni. Keeping his gun fixed on gangster, watching him like a hawk in case of reprisal. There was a very real possibility that reinforcements could arrive, and he would be ready if they did.

If he could have chosen - Tig would have preferred to watch the idiot in the foyer but he took his place, following behind Happy and Leni. He hated stepping into the fire behind the bitch but he was unbearably curious to see what was going on and how she'd deal with things. Without looking back, Leni lead the way through a broken security door into a large, light blue room where there was quite the scene laid out in front of them.

Three street gang members, were locked in a Mexican stand-off against two burly Saints and a fat guy wearing a t-shirt labeled "security". '_Bang up job he's __doin__'...' _thought Tig. Noticing that in the corner cowered two female employees - one of whom had dialed Leni in panic when the gang had burst in. The two of the troublemakers were a textbook definition of Latin street thug - wife beaters, ridiculously baggy pants, tattoos, gold chains. The only real difference between the two of them was a ball-cap on one and bandanna under braided black hair on the other. The tallest of the three - the cocky one in the middle of the room, was clearly the boss. Dressed a little less blatantly that his friends, in a burnt orange button down shirt and sagging black jeans.

"Leni!" The leader sang. "You don't call...you don't write!"

"The fuck you doin', Gus?" She snapped and Tig's eyes went to her. She seemed to look bigger now - empowered, determined. Like the change seen in a wounded animal, cowering and doe-eyed one minute - raised fur, snarling with bared teeth the next.

"I hear they call it - _taking a stake in profits_."

"And they call this_..." _Leni hooked her thumb over her shoulder to point out her support._ "...outnumbered_!"

The leader didn't seem fazed by her reply as he eyed up her support. The two Saints - who had been first to arrive on the scene were much older than the new pair of bikers - heavier too. Gus hadn't initially considered the Saints much of a threat but staring at them now partnered up with the two Sons - he started to wonder if he'd bitten off a little more than he could chew.

The shaven headed Son with more ink than a pen, stared Gus down with a dark, dangerous glare. While the slightly taller of the pack - the one with intense blue eyes and wild hair seemed more interested in looking at Leni's ass than what was going on in the room. _That alone _told Gus that despite their aggressive show of force and apparent eagerness to draw blood - he still had the upper hand.

Feeling he still held the advantage, the gangster stepped up closer to Leni - looking her dead in the eye.

"You need to recognize that your little tow shop here is on _my_ patch." He said, gesturing with his gun inches from Leni's face. "That means you owe me a vig - _bitch_!" He snarled. "Now, you can hand it over willingly or I'ma take it by force."

Leni stared back at him, her eyes enraged and unwavering despite Gus's intimidation. This asshole -and all the others like him- had smelled the blood. He knew the Saint's were wounded and like a vulture he was there for his piece of the carcass.

The room waited. One beat, then two - then three.

She didn't respond, she just stared at Gus and the gun he was waving at her. Her blue eyes focused and aggressive, her own gun relaxed at her side. He went to open his mouth, to give more threats but in one fluid motion she chopped the blade of her free hand into Gus's wrist - the surprise impact making him instantly drop the gun - as she stepped straight up to him, sending her forehead smashing into his with a skull cracking force.

Supporting weapons were cocked and aims re-established as bikers and gangsters faced off anew. Gus's body folded, his hands rushing to his forehead to hold where it hurt. Tig's eyes went as wide as saucers as he and Happy exchanged surprised glances. Both confirming they thought this bitch was fucking crazy to head-butt a man with a gun pointed at her face!

In one fluid motion Leni stepped into Gus and grabbed the skinny pony tail at the base of his skull, pulled down hard and jamming the muzzle of her gun up under his jaw - forcing him to look up at her. "And _YOU_ need to recognize who you're fucking with!"

Gus gave a huff of laughter through the blood that poured from a cut between his eyebrows. Defiant - though part of him _was_ truly afraid. Her eyes were wild and dangerous but she was a woman and he didn't take shit from females -_ white trash bikers either_. "If you _ever_ bring this shit to my front door again - I swear to God I will bury you!" She warned in a low growl.

"Puta!" He spat rebelliously. Instantly, Leni cocked her gun and rammed it harder into his throat. So hard that he could feel his rapid pulse against the cold steel muzzle.

"The only reason I don't blow your brains out right now, is because I like your mother! So make sure you apologize to her before you think about comin' up in my business again!" She stared into his eyes. Rage, fire and murderous intent shone frighteningly bright in the blue. Gus would never admit it, but he felt his manhood shrink. He knew Leni's reputation but this pie was a juicy one to have a slice of and an hour ago it looked like easy pickings. Jericho Towing owned almost half of the cities contract tows. If he could take it over he'd not only reassert his authority over the area, but he'd be able to take out smaller businesses in town. Ones that Leni, her father and their club had allowed to flourish. Knowing monitored competition was healthy and not all that bad for business. However, he was starting to realize he'd been foolish to try shaking her down. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was more than prepared to shed blood to protect what her family had built. She wasn't about to let some jumped up gangbanger with ideas above his station snatch it from her.

"Two choices, Gus." She continued, her tone grave. "Your boyfriends here, drop the guns and you all walk out and _never _come back." She allowed that to settle for a moment before continuing. "..._Or_I'll spend my evenin' puttin' y'all in a shallow grave..." With that her voice changed, to almost chirpy. "Either way works fine for me!" She shrugged, her snide tone chilling.

Gus hated being put in his place by a woman, especially in front of so many masculine witnesses. However, when he looked over to the faces of his men - he slowly began to realize his goose was cooked. It seemed his men weren't as brave as they had been on walking in to hold the towing company to ransom - under an hour ago. "What's it gonna be?" Her crazy eyes were demoralizing; _scary_ he'd go as far to say. He didn't want to give an answer but there wasn't much choice.

"Gus? Let's get out of here Holmes!" One of his companions begged, stepping from foot to foot like he needed to pee.

"I think you should take his advice!" One of the Saints spoke up. A man who was as bald as a cue ball on top but with a goatie that made him look like the missing member of ZZTop.

Gus thought for a moment, he knew he was screwed but he couldn't give up too easily - if only to save face. With another bubble of insolence breaking inside, he spoke again. "I ain't letting this skank..." That was the last word out of his mouth - Leni smashed the gun down into Gus's temple, knocking his spark out. He hit the deck like a sack of shit and Leni stepped off him and turned her gun on his friends.

"You and Rambo gonna walk away, or do you wanna be carried out too?" She asked, her eyes still as intense and threatening. Tig tried not to snort with laughter, realizing that was exactly who the guy with the bandanna reminded him of.

"No, we good! We good!" The most vocal of the two gave. The two Saint's took the chance to disarm the two gangsters before grabbing them by the scruff of their shirts and dragging them out the back door.

With the time-bomb disarmed, a moment of silence fell on the room and the office women breathed a sigh of relief as the security guard hurried to check them over. Safe for the moment, Leni's defenses faltered. She stepped back and slouched against a desk behind her, her eyes still wide and ferocious as her burst of blind bravery began to give way to nausea. Tig and Happy looked at her - bewildered. Unsure if she was about to start shooting in rage or burst into tears.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Swallowing down the emotion bubbling up from her core. This was no time to show the kink in her armor. There was no room for weakness - _game face_. She flipped the off switch inside her and locked the bolt on her emotions. Pushing them back down - deep, where she didn't have to acknowledge them.

When she opened her eyes again the rage was gone - contained and buried deep within her. Her eyes were softer, calmer, more beautiful that Tig could believe. The hostility he felt towards her stalled as he became mesmerized momentarily. The sudden change was as beautiful as it was unnerving. From murderer to maiden in seconds. He wondered if Happy saw it too but he had already set to work pulling up the unconscious and crumpled Gus from the floor. Yet it was all Tig could do to stare at her. His mind a mess with what he'd just seen. Her bravery, self-control - her _power_. His mouth was open a little, eyes full of shock and arousal. Maybe even awe - but he wasn't feeling _that_ generous. The flash of vulnerability resonated with him deeply but no sooner had he fallen under her spell than he was snapped out of it again. Telling himself what he'd seen was simply proof that she didn't have what it would take to swim alone with the sharks.

Leni caught his gaze for a second but quickly looked away. She didn't have the time _or_ the energy for his bullshit. Taking a deep, soothing breath she pushed off the desk and set about helping Happy drag Gus to his feet, while Tig just stood watching - still unable to fully process what he'd seen.

"No, _it's fine_. We got it!" Happy said sarcastically to Tig, as he and Leni struggled to right Gus. Happy's voice shook off the haze Leni had cast over Tig and his eyes refocused. He considered helping for a moment but instead he cockily lent back against the wall - letting them get on with it for a moment until he caught Happy's glare again. A sight which told him he really needed to help - if he wanted to avoid meeting the tail end of the Nomad's unspent wrath.

Begrudgingly, he moved over to them and grabbed Gus's hands - pulling his lifeless body up as Happy pushed, allowing Leni to step off and go to help her employees. Tig looked over his shoulder, catching sight of her crouching down and offering comfort to the office workers. Her adrenaline was quickly depleting and she could feel shivers running up her back. Her chin threatening trembles as she tried to remain strong and offer comfort and reassurance to the women tasked with running the tow company day-to-day.

Leni knew what she'd done would potentially do more harm than good, a show of force often lead to retaliation but she didn't know any other way to try to fix the situation. The only language people like Gus and his crew understood was violence and threats. They was no room for civilities. Gangsters didn't sit down over coffee and cookies to discuss amicable business arrangements and division of territory - which was what the voice inside her wished they would do. It would make life so much easier.

Her instincts told her that a little grace and compassion would go a long way in this line of work. However, she knew as long as the testosterone that demanded such pissing contests had the controlling say - things would never be gracious or peaceful in her world.

•••••••••••••••••••

Outside Chibs, Happy and Tig handed off an unconscious Gus to the three remaining alert gangsters and stood back with the Saints to watch as they bundled into their caddy and sped away.

"Is she always like that?" Tig asked, unable to control his curiosity. The stocky Saint with a Marilyn Munroe tattoo on his shoulder and a shaggy mop of graying hair smiled.

"You think that was something?" Murphy laughed. "You should have seen her before she got the pres patch!" Chibs looked at Happy and then to Tig - it seemed he'd missed the action and he was starting to wish he'd been there to watch it play all out for himself.

As the tail lights of the caddy faded the door to the building opened up and Leni stepped out into the muted sunshine. The other bikers didn't see it, but Tig did - just for a second. She was deflated, weakened - lost. Her shoulders showing the burden she carried, her eyes soft from the pressure of emotions but as soon as the door clicked shut at her back - her armor re-spawned. She stood tall and bold. If she'd been taught one thing in life - it was to take a deep breath, _suck it up_ and don't stop walking if hot coals were burning under your feet.

"They gone?" She asked. The small group of bikers nodded, lighting up cigarettes and joints to calm the nerves. Tig looked her over as she stood there, gathering her thoughts. As much as he hated to see it on her - she looked _good_ in her kutte. The sexy lacing up the sides, subtle embellishments with a few little silver stars, skulls, pyramid studs on the pockets, collar and bottom hem. He smiled inside thinking she'd look even better if she was naked underneath it.

His hungry eyes took in the patches on her chest. The president badge was the cleanest and it made him itch. He wondered about what Murphy had said and assumed that Leni had learned to reign in her aggression since being appointed leader. He'd seen a similar change in Clay over the years. The more power you gained, the more controlled and cunning you needed to become.

He cast his eyes slowly across her chest to take in the other two labels over her heart. One read "Breaking Wheel" which seemed odd. He had no idea what that related too and as much as he wanted to know, he wasn't going to ask her. The second read "Shadow Legion" and he assumed the meaning behind that was somewhere along the same lines as the Sons "Men of Mayhem" patches. Next, he eyed the silver pin she wore, shaped like a skull and crossbones with a banner underneath, embossed with the letters CBiC. Again, he had no idea what it stood for but he badly wanted to know - and he hated himself for it! Much to his irritation the badges seemed to indicate that she had worked her way up through the ranks. For a moment he considered that maybe she _had_ done some terrible things for the good of her club after all. However the sight of proof did nothing to change Tig's opinion. It would take a lot more than a lucky take-down and some patches to make him believe that she was what the other bikers made her out to be.

"What we gonna do Len?" The Saint with the salt and pepper beard that nearly touched his groin asked. "They'll be back. Them and every other asshole in this city who thinks we're an easy mark now!"

Leni didn't know what to do or say to make things better. Every time she thought she had it figured out the state of play changed. "I've called in Connie and Mooch to bring down some firepower and show the girls how to use it. We gotta get that security door and the emergency shutters fixed. Once we're closed and cashed out there's nothing much they can do - I'm not bringing in extra guys to watch this place leaving everywhere else vulnerable." She told and her bikers nodded but didn't look satisfied.

"We need to fire that fat fuckin' idiot! He couldn't protect a cold cup of piss!" Murphy put in.

"I'd love to, but until we get our guys back in the game and level this shit out we need all the bodies we can get!"

"There's got to be something else we can do." He insisted.

"And don't you think I'd be doin' it if there was?" Leni replied, trying not to snap but she was quickly losing patience. "I'm doin' my best to stop this ship sinkin' here boys."

"And where does hidin' behind SAMCRO fit in?" The bearded biker asked with a hint of bitterness.

"Don't start with this shit!" She replied sharply but kept her composure. Her move to recruit SAMCRO hadn't been sanctioned by the Saints but she'd made a judgement call.

He stroked the ends of his beard as he tilted his head to the side - trying hard to hold onto his anger. "I don't like washin' our dirty sheets at SAMCRO's Laundromat!"

Leni felt her resolve weaken. "Sully, if you can't support the plays I make - hand in your patch and hit the fuckin' bricks!" She growled. She knew a man who didn't have his heart in the game was as good as no man at all. "...'Cause right now - if you ain't part of the solution, you're part of the fuckin' problem!"

The biker opened his mouth to speak again but decided against it and backed down. He knew it was the wrong to butt heads with her but he was frustrated and tired of holding down a fort under siege. What made his mood the darkest was knowing that if it wasn't for the Sons showing up at Leni's back, the standoff may not have ended in quite the same. Before sundown half the cities bad guys would know the Sons were working with the Saints and here was no telling how that would blow back on them all. It would either kill or cure. Tig stared at Leni, watching the exchange with curious eyes. A flurry of different emotions and sensations still riled up inside him. He hated himself for liking the way she stood up for herself. He detested the way he wanted to step in to defend her even more. However, when the suspicious voice inside him spoke up, he was quickly reminded him how it was easy to talk tough around people you knew. The real test came when you faced off against strangers.

A few moments passed and the smoke that threatened to birth fire faded. Leni politely instructed the two Saints to head home and rest up for night watch. Knowing that re-enforcements would show up soon - they happily dispersed. After watching them go, she took off back inside - leaving the three Sons on watch out front. Allowing Tig the chance to put a call into Clay.

Not wanting to dwell on the emotions growing inside her - Leni spent a little more time with the women in the office for distraction. Thankful that they weren't too shaken up; having both grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, it wasn't the first time someone had pointed a gun at them. It was nice to step away for a moment, chat to girls, busy herself make cups of coffee. A moment to forget who she was, the responsibilities on her back and the war at her heels. However, she wouldn't allow herself to stay longer than she had to. Knowing that the further away she stepped, the harder it would be to walk back.

•••••••••••••••••••

Almost an hour passed as the three men stood around at the roadside, trying to digest the afternoons events while waiting for Clay and the remaining Sons to arrive to inspect the damage and help restore order. "It was intense man!" Tig sighed, reliving the office standoff once more. "She's like Tony Montana and Bambi had a baby or some shit!" Chibs and Happy laughed. It seemed like a fairly accurate description of Leni and for a moment it seemed as if Tig might actually like her. He was however, about to add some less complimentary commentary when she suddenly emerged from the building again, stepping out into the setting sun.

She gave a nod to the Sons but bypassed them, taking a seat on a low wall a good few feet from them and their bikes, trying not to seem antisocial but she needed to breathe. Pensively, she took out a cigarette and lit it. Closing her eyes as she took her first lung full of soothing nicotine. Wondering where it had all gone wrong for a moment, before sensing movement besides her. She opened her eyes to see that Chibs was standing over her. She watched as he took a seat on the wall at her side. "You all right sweetheart?" He asked as he lit a cigarette for himself.

Leni thought for a moment. She had to be okay - there was no other option. Suck it up, move on. "Yeah." She said trying to sound honest but instead seeming half-hearted.

"It's okay if you're not, you know?" Chibs offered, sensing there was something simmering beneath the surface.

"No...it isn't." She sighed taking another draw from her cigarette.

"Whatever you need, you know we're here to help you."

She gave him a soft, grateful smile. "I wish I knew what would help..."

Chibs thought on that for a moment. He could only imagine the stress she was under. Not only faced with pressure from outside of her circle, but from within it too. "Misty mornings become clear days, darlin'..."

At that, Leni gave a brighter smile - she liked his piece of wisdom. "What do _trying afternoons_ become?"

Chibs laughed. "Probably drunken nights." He winked at her and they chuckled together breaking the tension Leni felt on her shoulders. Passing it over to Tig stood too far away to hear what they were saying - but he could see well enough. Feeling his chest fill with pin pricks as he watched Chibs sitting with her - making her laugh. Putting a little bit of sparkle back in her eyes that were previously so heavy with dark cloud. Was he really going to allow himself to get jealous of a brother? All over that piece of try-hard pussy?

"You need to tap that already!" Happy told him bluntly. Quickly growing tired of seeing his friend hungering after the one woman he'd struggle to get on his best day.

Tig sighed heavily. "Tell me about it..."

•••••••••••••••••••

It took just under an hour to settle things up at the tow yard. Clay, Bobby, Juice and the prospect had arrived to see what they could do to help. As well as small cluster of patched Saints and their associates - who showed up to temporarily beef up security as the staff cashed up and locked down for the night. Tig watched from a short distance away, through jealous eyes as Leni hugged a number of tough looking men in kuttes. The two clubs exchanged friendly welcomes, familiar faces floating through for both sides. Even in the midst of the drama, there was banter and Tig clenched his jaw as he watched Leni throw her head back and laugh at something one of the bikers said to her. She looked sexy, the brief burst of relaxation showing her in the most beautiful light - but the calm was to be short lived.

Smiling with her thoughts away from the stresses she was under for a moment - she casually took a call on her cellphone. Not expecting the news that slowly drained the joy from her face.

"For fuck sake!" She sighed, a sinking feeling setting in for the second time that day. Snapping the phone closed, she growled - _shit had gone from bad to worse._

"What is it?" Clay asked as Tig stood up straight - alert and ready to defend.

Making a start for her Harley she sighed out. "Someone trashed my Goddamn house!".

**A/N: Thanks for reading. If you'd like to see more, please gimme a show of interest below.**


	4. Chapter 3: Ladybird, Ladybird

**A/N: **A huge thank you to everyone who gave me feedback for the last chapter. I love knowing what you think of the story and your words keeps me writing and posting! Sorry for the slow update, it's been a hell of a week so far!

This chapter is a lot shorter than the one before but it's the last in the "preamble" part of the story - we're going up a gear (or six) from here on out! So if you're down for the ride - let me know!

**•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•**

**Stranger by Black Stone Cherry  
**I've seen the likes of angels  
Felt the devil's fire  
I know you're just a stranger  
But you fuel my desire

**•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•**

**Wicked Games ||** Chapter Three** || Ladybird, Ladybird **

The Sons saddled up fast, compelled to stay close to Leni as she rolled out onto the city streets. A patched Saint and an associates of theirs tagged along in a black SUV - tailing the pack in case they were needed too. She lead to way out of the way out of the crushing tangle of urban streets, with Clay at her side. Navigating through traffic to rejoin the wide open Golden State Highway, for a short journey north to the small, picturesque township of Tacenda - where the Saints called home.

The heavy rumble of well tuned engines was a sound heard daily and none of the locals showed a single concern as the squadron of powerful motorcycles rolled into Main Street. Riding two-abreast through the towns heart, lined with rows of small family owned businesses - a grocery store and bakery, hardware store, seven-eleven, and a couple of diners. There was also a large, friendly tavern called The Wailing Wetlash - named so from the folklore surrounding the nearby river. With the city so close, keeping small local businesses alive wasn't easy - but a strong sense of community spirit helped keep the town thriving and safe from big city influences and corruptions.

Taking a right at a crossroads away from the hustle of the town center - Leni lead the men past a large park and community center before turning again. Taking the group down a wide street, lined on both sides with lush Aspen trees. The houses on the block were mismatched in design, which was an odd contrast to the uniformed trees. It looked like a nice place to live, perhaps a little too nice for someone with Leni's underworld connections. However, the trained eye noticed the attraction to the area. There were two exits at both ends of the street - each leading through the surrounding rural lands, straight out to the two major highways nearby. Despite the trees, the view down the street was wide open and clear, allowing for early detection of potential tails or attacks. Everything someone who spent their life breaking and bending laws needed to feel safe at home.

Reaching the center of the street, Leni slowed her bike and pulled up on the drive of a small single story, pale brick house, as the convoy that followed her drew in and parked up on the street. A neighbor mowing their lawn at the house opposite, watched with alarmed but understanding eyes. It wasn't an unusual scene throughout the town, but every time a dark swarm of bikers rolled down a residential street - the neighbors couldn't help but feel a little uneasy, despite the local MC being in good favor. On the driveway Leni was met by a short dark skinned woman in a nurses uniform. The next-door neighbor who had called her with the bad news - having arrived home from work to find Leni's door bust wide open.

The two women exchanged a few words before Leni made a move for her front door which was barely on its hinges, tapping against the wall in the gentle breeze. Clay instructed a cluster of bikers to knock some doors on the street, to find out if anyone saw anything. While he, Tig, Chibs and Bobby followed Leni into her house. Stepping inside to find an ugly scene of destruction and vengeance.

The heart of the house was a bright open living space with light paint on the walls - it looked like a place which would have been cozy, if it hadn't been for the papers and trash strewn everywhere. Bookcases pulled over, tables flipped up, and sofa's slashed. It was a sorry scene, a personal invasion that would forever cast a black cloud over the once happy home.

Clay's eyes found Leni quickly, she was standing over something at the far end of the room and as he stepped closer he felt the darkness settle in. At her feet was a large, light brown dog, -a Rhodesian Ridgeback- lying lifeless in a pool of blood besides the wall. Leni gave a faint whimper and put her hand to her mouth, swallowing down a sob. As she couched down to touch the animal she had loved for almost five years. She should have known better - the more things you cared about, the more they had to use against you.

As she sank down, she revealed the wall in front of her to the men who stood watching. Frighteningly clear against the cream paintwork was blood spelling out a threat: _'Next dead bitch!' _directly below it was a printed picture of her from that very afternoon - standing outside the towing company talking to the Sons. A circle of blood was drawn around her and a small knife was holding the warning in place, stuck though the image of Leni's head. Clay felt rage bubble up inside him, shocked at how serious things looked for her now. He opened his mouth to speak - keen to find out what the hell was going on - when suddenly another biker burst into the house.

There was a split second between the drawing of guns and recognition for the Sons. Realizing the new arrival was a friend, not foe - Meritt Finnlan, the Devil's Saints Sergeant-at-Arms. The men had worked with Finn on a hijack-come-heist several years ago, when Henry was still the Saints president and Leni was barely out of her prospect patch. He was in Tig's age bracket, around the same height too. Light brown hair -several months overdue for a trim- with a scruffy dark beard. His skin was tanned golden, suggesting he worked outside with his shirt off a lot. He was of strapping build but no more imposing than any of the other men in the room. A scattering of visible tattoos and a battle weary gaze permanently set in his hazel eyes silently told his life story.

"Jesus Christ!" He cried looking round the room. "What the fuck happened? Are you okay?" Leni stood up to greet him and forced herself to fight back the emotions inside, as he stepped over to her and hugged her tightly to him. She didn't hug back and Tig's curiosity bit - telling him that she either didn't want to be touched or they had an awkward history.

"I'm fine!" She assured pushing out of Finn's embrace. She could feel Tig's eyes on her again and it made her feel conscious of her every move. His blue eyes felt fiery, with what hinted at jealousy. Finn stepped back a little and looked at her face. He knew she wasn't fine, he could tell by the way she responded to his touch - too proud to take comfort from someone in such a trying situation. He also knew, she'd never admit to not being okay - so he didn't challenge her. He just shook his head softly in defeat but then his eyes caught sight of the scene behind her.

"Shit!" He hissed in disgust. The dead dog was horrible but paring that with a death threat was beyond callous.

"Was it the guys from the tow shop?" Bobby asked taking the attention.

"Doubt it." Leni dismissed. "They're more a '_pray and spray' _deal. This is some calculated shit." She glanced to Tig who was now staring at her lifeless dog. If his reputation didn't say otherwise, she would have sworn to seeing sadness in his eyes.

"Has somethin' like this happened before?" Clay asked in a low rumble. Leni's eyes locked with his and she hesitated, she didn't want to tell him but there was no point in continuing to hide it now.

"It's been happenin' for a while." Leni said calmly. Clay's eyes widened, indicating he wanted to know more. "A few threats left stuck to my bike, and in the mail, stuff like that. Nothin' like this though." She said, fearing that the escalation and invasion meant time was running out for her, and her club too.

"And you didn't think to mention it?" Clay growled.

"I can handle it." She defended, glancing to Finn who was already siding with Clay.

"Clearly you can't!" He snapped back. The two presidents eyes met to flames of anger fueled by his concern and her stubbornness. "Pack your shit!" He ordered. "You can come stay at the clubhouse. Whoever's doin' it won't risk pullin' this shit on our turf. We can keep you safe until we find out who's behind this. "

"No!" She rejected. "I don't need a babysitter!" Clay glared at her, not liking her defiance. "That's what they want! Me out of the way. They're attackin' my patched members to scare me off so they can take what's mine!"

"And it'll be a lot easier for them to achieve that if you stay around here where you're exposed!"

"Clay, I..." She tried to argue but he put up his hand, silencing her.

"I don't want to hear it. You're obviously not safe here, so unless you've got somewhere to stay that's safer than under a roof of mine - you're comin' back with us."

Leni looked to Finn, wanting his support more than his true opinion on the matter. "He's right Len, you're not safe here! These bastards know we've got a lot to hold down and we can't watch it all _and you_ at the same time." He told and her eyes flared with anger again. She hated being railroaded into things. She was made president to take control, not lay down and be walked all over. She opened her mouth to argue but closed it again, knowing it was futile. She hated how things were playing out but she couldn't argue convincingly against the men when inside she knew they were right. The thought of running away from her problems stung deep, but the threats had stepped up a gear. She knew her men would be more focused, if their president wasn't running around with an anvil about to be dropped on her head at any given moment.

Feeling defeated, she sighed silently and walked away into the kitchen. Trying to mentally prepare herself for loosening her death grip on the reigns. Clay gave Finn an approving nod before instructing Chibs to take the knife as evidence. He knew it was unlikely, but he hoped maybe Unser would be able to pull prints from it.

Needing to sit before she fell - Leni parked herself down in a chair at the kitchen table. Closing her eyes tightly, trying to keep it together with so many demanding spotlights upon her. Clay, Finn and Bobby looked at her with concern but Tig was unknowingly leering at her again. Angry that she was going to be a fixture in his life for the foreseeable future. Yet optimistic and lusty at the thought of her being vulnerable and under his protection.

Knowing there was nothing more to be said, Clay took the attention away from Leni by walking out of the house. With the break in focus, she let go of a breath she'd been holding and put her head in her hands. She really didn't want the Sons knowing about the shit in her personal life. She went to them for their help with club business, kicking ass and taking names - not their sanctuary. She needed their support but not the way Clay was insisting, yet she knew there was no way back now - too much had been seen. They were now fully aware of the threat she was living under and it was their instinct to protect. Quietly, she was starting to regret going to Charming and dragging another club into her shitstorm. She knew it was Clay's loyalty to her father that made him demand that she stepped under his wing. She just hoped that the dangers of her world wouldn't follow them back to where he called home.

Tig looked at her as he began to stalk around the living room, burying what little sympathy he felt deep inside as he chose to listen to the anger in him instead. He knew she was trouble the minute she rocked up on the Teller-Morrow lot. He should have fought harder to get rid of her, dragged her out of the clubhouse by her hair when his instincts told him she'd cause problems. Trying hard to bite his tongue, he began looking her place over - getting a little insight into this woman who had stormed into his life and threatened to fuck it all up.

She had a nice place, open plan living and kitchen area -painted cream and accented with blacks and reds- which opened out to a large backyard, perfect for parties. There was a single door on the far right, which he assumed lead to the bedrooms. He wondered what there might be to see in there, but it didn't seem likely he'd ever find out.

From what he could tell, she had her priorities right - with a decent sized TV and a killer sound system. Interestingly to him, there were various pieces of dark home decor - bookends and wall vases shaped like old fashioned pistols. Stone ravens perched on the ends of shelves, a few trinket boxes dotted around that looked antique. Black antler candle sticks around the fireplace with a decorative knife - uniquely shaped like a dragon- in a glass case, in pride of place at the center of the mantle. Despite dashes of other slightly macabre icons, the undeniable theme was skulls and skeletons - it seemed like she collected them. A crystal decanter shaped like a skull, with matching glasses sat on a sideboard which had been gutted by the intruders. A decorative bulls skull hung above the TV over the fireplace, which was flanked by candle holders that were shaped like crucified skeletons. He spotted a blanket and matching pillows with intricate skull motifs on and even the light shade was cleverly crafted to look like a cranium. Her tattoos had suggested to him that she liked to dabble in darkness and the look of her place drew Tig's curiosity out in even further. Taking the edge off the hints of death and doom, were posters for rock bands and cult classic movies on the wall - some ripped down to make space for the warning. Seeing her refuge helped Tig form a better picture of who she was, but it did nothing to make him actually _like _her. He wasn't going to allow himself to - _ever!_ He didn't care how interesting she seemed, or how much he liked her style. No one talked shit to him and cut those kind of looks his way and got a _make-nice _out of it!

He continued to look around as Juice, Happy and Half-Sack walked in to see if there was anything they could do to help. Glancing around the sorry scene and watching Tig for a moment as he ran his finger over an alcove shelf holding her CD collection - his mind was too tense to bother reading the titles. He eye was quickly draw away to the kitchen table where she was still sitting. A gun shaped vase of flowers tipped over, water still dripping onto the floor. She was talking to Finn, nodding her head so she seemed to be paying attention but Tig could see she was distant - hurting. He could also sense that she'd rather cut out her right eye before she admitted to it - just as he would do, before he'd admit that he gave a shit.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It took a while for Leni to escape the scene in her living room and disappear into her bedroom. When she finally got free, the wave of relief that came for her wasn't as powerful as she had hoped. There were so many swords looming above her head and no way to take them down, it was impossible to breathe easy. She hated the idea of going into hiding but she knew Clay was right and she didn't want to be combative with him. She needed friends - not more enemies. He was too similar to her father and if push came to shove, she had no doubt that he would hog tie her and drag her ass back to Charming. So, with a heavy heart, she packed as much as she could into fit a large dufflebag and backpack. Clothes and footwear -trying to prepare for any potential occasion that she might encounter- before loading up her gadgets and weapons. Lastly, she bagged a box full of special trinkets and photos that she could never leave behind, and was so thankful to see it had remained untouched.

When she was sure she'd gathered everything, she took a last look around her bedroom and stepped back out into the main house. She was relieved to see the men were outside waiting for her - giving her a moment alone to survey her home again. Her eyes fell to the patch of blood where her dog had died. She guessed some of the men had taken her body out to the yard to bury her, but she couldn't bear to think of another of her friends lying cold in the ground. So she turned away, choked back a little more sadness and listened to her father's voice in her head telling her that her a time for vengeance would come.

Assured, she looked around for a final time, checking there was nothing left behind that couldn't be replaced. She was schooled to live with few attachments to material goods - too much leverage for enemies. It seemed like a cruel twist of fate that her friends had now become the tools with which some sick bastard out there had decided to whip her.

Blowing out a sigh, she stepped out into the dusky evening light, locked the door behind her and eyed the Sons. Most were saddled ready to leave but Finn was stood waiting at the curb next to her bike, waiting to say his goodbyes.  
As she loaded her bags onto her bike, she cut Finn a sideways glance. "I hate you for this!" She told him, still bitter that he'd sided with Clay.

Finn smiled. "You hate everythin' that's good for you."

She turned her head to him and gave back a faint smile, he was right - _she did_. Yet she couldn't recall anyone ever saying SAMCRO and Charming would be _good_ for her. "I hate doin' this...I hate walkin' away and..."

Finn cut her off. "You don't have to carry the entire club Leni!" He told. "We can hold this down better knowin' you're safe somewhere else!" She knew he was right, and she hated it even more. "You don't need to be here for the day to day stuff - I can run that. If any drama blows up, you're only forty minutes down the road and I'm sure these guys will bring you back and forth whenever you need." He assured. Hoping that Charming was far enough away from the risks.

"Who you trying to convince?" She frowned. "Me, or yourself?"

Finn laughed softly, not wanting to admit she was onto something. They both knew she'd be safer staying in Sons territory than anywhere else but her anxiety about leaving her responsibilities effected them both. Every pair of hands were needed on deck to keep things running and safe. Her men were at risk and it felt so wrong be walking away from the fires that threatened to scold them too. Yet they both knew if focus was divided, bigger cracks would form in their defenses.

"I don't like bein' a deserter Finn!" She told him flatly.

"You're not! Even Generals hole up somewhere safe in times of war." He assured her, having firsthand knowledge of that fact.

"And I ain't no General!" She told and he knew she had a problem with sitting back and watching her men do her bidding. She'd spent so long fighting to prove she could do everything they could, it was hard to watch them do the duties she'd spent so long doing herself - even if she was ultimately in control of all they did.

"Just quit bein' a pain in the ass and go!" Finn laughed. Knowing she'd just seen that his resolve really wasn't so strong and because of that -if he let her- she'd argue with him until the cows came home. She blew out a heavy breath - there was no point in fighting it. She had to leave.

Trying to convince herself it was for the best, she stepped in and hugged Finn tightly - hoping it wouldn't be long before she saw him again. Tig watched on with a flame licking at his heart and confusion washing through his brain. Barely an hour ago she had been stiff as a board when Finn hugged her, yet now she instigated an embrace? Not flinching a muscle as her kissed her softly on the forehead. Tig growled - unable to figure out what their relationship was - or what it meant for him. They weren't making out, but they may as well have been for how much it stung Tig. Seeing the tenderness between them felt strange - the bond between a president and a right hand man, that wasn't anything alien to him. He loved Clay deeply, he'd do anything for him - but Clay wasn't a woman! That little fact changed the game in ways that made Tig's head spin.

"Just don't go punching or biting anyone. We need to keep these guys on side." Finn joked and Leni gave him a little shove, trying not to smile. He'd always been a good friend to her - support when she'd needed it, a sounding board for her concerns and ideas. Protection in the face of danger, her comfort in times of sadness, a fellow mischief maker in times of contentment. He and Johnny had been there for her throughout her life - like surrogate big brothers. Both completely different in personality and honor, yet identical in their support and love of the girl that eventually came to lead them. It felt so wrong to walk away from him, leave him to hold down the fort on her behalf - it felt dangerously close to betrayal.

With their goodbyes said, Finn left her side and took to his own bike, ready to head back to oversee the safety of the clubs interests. Leni sat herself in the saddle of her ride, and fastened her helmet as she looked back at her house, her home - _her life_. Promising herself that she would bring about the end for whoever was behind trying to burn down her world - no matter how long it took or how much more it cost her.

**A/N:** Okay guys, that's all for now. The games begin between Tig and Leni next chapter. Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear your thoughts - good or bad!


	5. Chapter 4: Bellicose

**A/N:** Once again, thanks to everyone who gave me feedback, especially those took time to leave me a review. I really love hearing what you all think! Your responses keep me posting!

This is the longest chapter so far, but I didn't want to cut it down because it ruined the flow - so brace yourselves. I hope you all enjoy it, it's a taste of the drama that is yet to come. And you'll probably end up either loving or hating Leni by the end of it haha!

I should probably mention a couple of things. Firstly, that I imagine Tig's age to be around forty-eight at the time this story is set (between season one and two). Second, since we don't (yet) know where Tig actually lives when he's off duty, I'm taking potential hints from the show that may suggest he lives at the clubhouse - such as the scene kicking the hooker out of bed, which followed on from other club house "activities" and how he had a bunch of photos of Dawn so quickly after she left. He doesn't exactly have a glove box to keep them in - so I'm imaging he lives on site, and for the purpose of this story - _he does_. Lastly, this isn't a story for kids so if you're not old enough to read dirty language and sexually suggestive scenes, go away!

That's it...go forth and enjoy!

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

**You Burn First by Alexisonfire**

**Baby Skin Tattoo by Moist**

_Let's all give thanks that I am a liar,  
'Cause I've got a feeling I just might get worse.  
Now there's nothing wrong with you,  
I'm just tired.  
And I'm in a mood for a brand new curse_

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Four || **Bellicose**

The pack of bikers rode back home on a wave of faded adrenaline and anxiety, leaving a heavy cloud of sorrow and danger at their back. The oncoming night had cleared the city streets, allowing them to easily flee its bordered, hitting the open highway and speeding home for Charming just before the dark fully set in. The group settled into formation as Clay headed up the group with Tig to his right and Leni diagonally behind him - riding center for protection with Chibs at her side and the other Sons at her back. Each and every biker kept a close eye on their mirrors watching for a tail, that thankfully never came.

The ride back to safety was slower than the one into the city - but only just. It was always risky to be outside of friendly borders after dark and each biker was keen to get back to their own territory. None more so than Tig, who kept his eye on Leni via his mirror. Unable to gage any of her emotions beneath her helmet, with headlights reflecting off her eyewear. The tiniest part of him felt some sense of sympathy for her, her life was being turned upside down, chewed up and spat out but it wasn't any of his concern. His job was to protect the club and it was clear that she was bringing trouble of the worst kind to their doorstep. He couldn't allow himself to feel any shred of compassion for someone who he would have to push out, if it came to a choice between saving her or protecting his brothers.

When they reached the clubhouse Jax, Piney and Gemma were all waiting there to greet them. Bobby and Chibs stepped over and filled them in on a little of what had happened while Juice and Half-Sack helped Leni with her things. When their paths crossed, Jax and Piney offered her supportive words and pats on the back. She tried to appear strong and unaffected by the day's events but it was getting harder and harder to keep her mask from slipping. She needed time to decompress, but she knew with so many eyes watching her there she'd struggle to find the chance to be alone and process what had happened - and what to do about it.

She reached Gemma last, and Leni gave a genuine smile, full of relief - it was nice to see another woman among the sea of masculinity. The contacts in her cellphone weren't exactly filled with numbers for female friends. Her career path rarely put her in contact with women she could forge friendships with - it was too hard to find common ground and what experience she did have with women as friends, had showed her only negatives. It seemed they loved drama too much, bitching and backstabbing, going to war with each other over catty, trivial shit. At least men were pretty straight forward, if they had a problem with someone, it was solved quickly with confrontation and usually a show of fists. That leveled things out and put a stop to any animosity.

Despite finding life simpler surrounded by men, there were times when Leni longed for a strong female presence in her life. Someone who understood what it was like to have a pair of breasts and a position of power. Someone who knew the complexities and consequences of the life she led and struggled with every day. If there was a woman in the world who she might stand a chance of relating to, that woman was Gemma Teller-Morrow.

Sure - she was an old lady, duty bound to her husband and not privy to every tiny -_gory-_ detail of club life, but she knew more than enough to understand the clandestine dealings and offer regular support and comfort Clay. She kept more than her fair share of dark secrets and had suffered for the club and the men in it. As queen, she walked the fine line between the dutiful wife or mother and Consigliere. On one side of line was a woman who cared for her husband and son and acted as a domestic goddess. Cooking, cleaning, helping run the garage and keeping the clubhouse in order. On the other side of the line, she was a confidante to Clay, and Jax too. Someone who was trusted with secrets and who offered guidance and advice as best she knew how. She was no stranger to giving a reality check or a slap down if it was needed too. It took a strong woman to carry the dark knowledge of the clubs misdeeds and keep her head straight. Gemma understood and knew how to deal with the complexities of their world, even if she didn't have to directly handle the blood, sweat and tears that came with it.

"Jesus Christ!" Gemma gasped, looking Leni up and down. "You grew up!" The last time she had laid eyes on the beautiful young woman in front of her - she was just a scrawny, _bratty_ teenager with a passion for Gothic fashion, facial piercings and causing trouble.

"And you don't look a day older than when I last saw you!" Leni replied with a smile. She had a mental image of the notorious SAMCRO queen imprinted in her mind - having met her more than a few times over the years at biker weddings and community gatherings. It had been years since they'd seen each other last but the woman standing before her magically hadn't aged a day.

"Oh sweetie." Gemma laughed. "You are going to fit right in around here!" With that, she gently put her arm around Leni and instantly sensed that she needed some distraction from what had happened up north. Clay had called from Tacenda to ask her to prep the apartment and she'd been given the gist on the drama of the day. It sounded ugly, and stressful - full of things a young woman shouldn't have to face, even if she was president of a motorcycle club.

Full of maternal concern, Gemma led Leni inside the clubhouse away from the men. Taking her through the building, pointing out the different rooms -giving the guided tour- as they headed down to the apartment where she would be staying. "It's not the Hilton..." Gemma said turning on the lights, as Half-Sack appeared and quickly put Leni's bag down on the bed before disappearing again - bound for the chapel. "...But you'll be safe here." Leni thanked her as she looked around, it wasn't that much different to the rooms in the Devils Saints clubhouse. Everything she'd need to feel at home. A little place to have her own sanctuary amongst the sea of testosterone that flooded the rest of the building.

Gemma watched inquisitively as Leni wandered around, getting a feel for the place. She'd seen women in kuttes before, but they were always covered in 'property patches'. She never thought she'd live to see the day that a woman walked among the wolves wearing club colors and holding the reigns of control. "So..." She said, curious as hell about how it had come to be, how it worked, and how Leni coped. "President, huh?" She knew how much stress Clay was under at times, it amazed her to think someone so young could carry such a weight.

"Yeah..." Leni shrugged, now not feeling worthy of the title.

"If I knew that was possible, I would have gotten myself voted in and taken over control of this place over _years_ ago." Gemma joked, lightening the mood for a moment.

Leni laughed softly. "Something tells me you've got more control over this place than you even realize."

Gemma thought on that for a moment and then chuckled, realizing Leni was right. "Come on...sit!" She insisted, perching on the edge of the bed. "Me and you should swap tips on how to handle these big, sweaty, idiots of ours." Leni smiled, pleased that Gemma was offering her a distraction from dwelling on everything that had happened - every mistake she'd made, every line she crossed and everything that could blow back in her face so violently.

•••••••••••••••••••

"We need to get that..." Clay said, tossing knife inside a plastic pouch onto the redwood table "...to Unser, he might be able to get a print off it or somethin'... In the meantime, I want a list of names that we can push for answers on who's pullin' this shit!" He demanded, clenching and releasing his now empty hand. Frustrated by how things had escalated from a simple business deal to death threats against a young woman.

"I'll do my best!" Juice offered. Truthfully not sure where to start with pinning down a list of people with designs on offing Leni. "No one on the street saw anything... it's a needle in a haystack!"

Piney spoke up. "Even if we rule out all the criminals, players and low-lives...it could still be anyone with a beef against a woman with her standing."

Clay nodded in agreement. The outlaw world was a few decades behind the rest of society when it came to equal rights. "I know, but we gotta start the tree shakin' somewhere."

"I can give you some names." Happy spoke up, looking at Juice. He knew a lot of bad eggs who would take great delight in messing with someone like Leni. Clay gave Happy a nod of gratitude and opened his mouth to speak again but Tig jumped in.

"So while we're playin' detective agency, am I supposed to babysit this broad?"

Clay glared at his Sergeant - he needed to stop with this shit already. "No! But you_ are_ goin' to have to live here with her - so suck it up!" He demanded.

Tig gave a grunt of displeasure and sank back in his chair. Hoping that Juice could deliver the goods to help get the bitch out of his sight for good. Hoping she'd take the mixed up thoughts and feelings she'd infected him with back to Sacramento and _fast!_

Church was in session for almost an hour before the Sons emerged to find the clubhouse slowly filling up with familiar faces, pumping rock music, two kinds of smoke and the swells of liquor. Filtering out into the mix - Piney said his goodbyes and took off for home, Clay went to the bar where Gemma was sitting with Leni, while Jax headed outside with Bobby to talk garage business. Half-Sack took off for behind the bar to bring out the drinks, while Chibs and Happy went to chat to some patched brothers, who were in town from Washington. Juice was hot on their heels, but to his shock he was collared by Tig and pulled back into the Chapel.

"I need you to do me a favour!" Tig said, trying not to show his desperation as he bared down on the Puerto Rican.

Juice's brow furrowed apprehensively "What is it?" .

"Get me _everything_ you can on her." He nodded back into the bar room and they both glanced at Leni who was laughing at something Half-Sack had said or done.

"Don't drag me into this man." Juice cringed. "She's cool. I'm not fuckin' with her."

Tig shook his head in disgust - he couldn't believe how this broad had got everyone sold so quickly. "I want you to get her file off whatever database has it and give it to me." He growled. "We need to know who this gash is."

Juice felt a twinge of something resembling guilt at the way his brother spoke about her, but he gave a half-hearted nod of compliance - knowing he was out ranked. Tig cut Juice an insistent look before shaking him loose and stalking out of the chapel. Frustrated and confused by all that was happening and the mix of emotions he was feeling, he needed to get some space, before his fist met with the nearest wall or worse - _someone's face_.

Truth be told, all Leni really wanted to do was curl up and go to sleep, but Gemma wouldn't hear of it. She knew that if someone was left alone to dwell on their problems, things somehow only became worse. She had instinctively recognized some of herself in Leni and knew that she wouldn't take kindly to prying into her head. So instead Gemma had kept conversation light - joking a little about the men in their lives, sharing a few stories about the times they had to lay down the law and show the men who really wore the pants. Mixing in a little chat about girly things, like the jewelery Leni wore and the way Gemma had her hair highlighted.

Keen to make her feel at home in her new surroundings, Gemma had encouraged Leni out of the apartment and into the main clubhouse to meet some of the people there. She made her something to eat and that -along with a little alcohol and good company- had Leni beginning to feel _almost_ human again. Inside her emotions were so raw from all that had happened. She knew that she needed a way to release the pressure in her head before the control she had on her emotions, her frustration, her temper - _snapped!_

Seeing movement at the chapel door, Leni looked over and caught Tig's eye. Passing her a cold, dismissive look as he headed for his own room at the back of the clubhouse. By the way she was feeling, she could tell that confrontation would likely end bloody, so she put her eyes back on the drink in her hand and silently sighed. She'd almost forgotten what an asshole he was but that look said it all. He didn't want her there and the truth was, she didn't _want_ to be there either - but she was fresh out of options.

"You okay?" Clay asked her, taking her attention back - his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah!" Leni lied. "...Just worried about how all this is going to blow back on everything... _everyone_..."

Clay understood, but they both knew there was no way to second guess the reactions of criminals. "I sent a couple of our nomads over to help beef up numbers a bit - ease the load on your guys. And I got Juice workin' on diggin' up some leads too, so we'll figure this shit out."

"Thank you!" Leni smiled gratefully, the load on her shoulders instantly feeling a little bit lighter.

Clay placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Your dad would be proud of you, you know?"

The smile in her eyes faded. "I'm not so sure..." She would have agreed with him a few months ago, when she was in command of everything he had left to her. Now that things were spiraling out of her control, she felt like she was letting him -and everyone she cared about- down.

"_I am!_" Clay assured her and she smiled a little through her encroaching sadness. It was bittersweet to hear such a thing. She wished so much that her father was still around to help her. She missed him in ways she didn't know how to describe. During his life, they had butted heads _at least_ once a week but she respected him like no other. He was scarily wise in ways of warfare, always knew how to fix problems - no matter how big or bloody. He was the only person who had ever made her feel truly safe, even in the darkest times. Now she was out on her own, she felt exposed and weak. Barely hanging on to the threads of control, about to free-fall down a dark tunnel of trouble, where knives lined the walls, waiting to cut her at every turn and oblivion waited patiently below.

As if Clay could read her mind he spoke. "You're safe here. Let your hair down, relax. Seems like you could use it." He didn't know how right he was. The instinctive response to events like those a few hours earlier, was to drink, eat, fight or fuck. For Leni, it was usually all four, and in any order _or _combination. All the things that would provide distraction and solace from the clouds in her head and the hell at her back. She had already crossed two items off the list and was beginning to struggle with fighting the urge to chase the others.

**•••••••••••••••••••**

Away from the noise of the bar, Tig was in the dark and quiet of his apartment. Sitting on his bed with his jaw tight and hands just itching to choke someone out. As a hurricane of twisted emotions and feelings rampaged through him. He couldn't make sense of himself or all the thoughts that were in his head. So many different views and opinions spinning around, it was like his mind had become an open forum for every voice he'd ever heard.

The devil on his left shoulder was adamant about her - told him she was no good. Reminded him of the way she'd shot him down, the attitude she'd given him and the looks she'd cut him. The devil told him that she needed to get gone before her shit blew back on SAMCRO. She was just a jumped up little gash who knew how to talk tough and lash out! Nothing more than a rowdy troublemaker who needed men to back her up and take the blows from the mess she caused. The demon on his _right_ shoulder - who sat proudly on top of a bound and gagged angel, told him that what she needed wasn't protection - _it was a good fuck_. Maybe she'd see things clearer and sort her own problems out if she got laid. If nothing else he could fuck some respect into her and make his suffering a little easier to handle. A smirk stretched across his face as he thought about that for a moment. How he'd like to pin her down and fuck her smart mouth until she understood the man he was and that she was playing with fire.

His mind suddenly shifted - the captured angel looking at him with pleading eyes. Hoping he'd see that he could offer her so much, if he'd just allow himself to get past what she was. There was something in her eyes - underneath all the aggression, that suggested she would understand him like no one else ever could. Already he felt something drawing him closer to her, pulling him in like she had some kind of tractor beam locked on him. She was nothing but a stranger to him and it made no sense to think that she'd understand him - or even want to try it. However, something deep down within him -that struggled to be heard over his misogynistic ego- tried to make him see that there was so much more to her than the patch she wore and what lay between her legs. But no, his mind was set! She was no good! _She had to go!_

He couldn't allow himself to wonder about her and the gray area she dwelled in. There could only be black and white for Alex Trager - it was easier that way. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Yes or no - _not maybe_! You were on his side or you were the enemy. When it came to protecting what you loved and reactive violence, you couldn't afford to think twice. It always got ugly when you paid too much mind to things - too complicated and twisted up in knots. He had no time for that, he couldn't afford it!

He was a perceptive man -good at reading people, their motives and desires- but regardless of what he felt for her deep inside - he _told _himself she was nothing but trouble; _plain and simple_. He wouldn't deny himself some fun in fucking with her but it would have to be a means to an end -hoping to make her lose control and fall out of favor with his family. That was the simplest way to get her ass kicked back to Sacramento, where he didn't have to think about her anymore. If his brothers saw she was volatile and untrustworthy they wouldn't want her around and he could be free of the growing conflict he felt inside himself.

She'd only been in his life for a matter of hours and already she was starting to twist him up inside. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand the blizzard of feelings that were emerging inside him. He wanted her gone! If only so he could get back to the simple life - booze, easy sex and his brotherhood. There was no room for her in his home - or in his mind.

With the devil in his heart, he returned to the bar and was relieved to see a room full of the familiar. Bobby had a curvaceous woman with dirty blonde hair and a questionable level of fake tan, sitting on his lap. Juice was at his computer doing his best to covertly gather up as much information as he could on Leni before calling it a night. Gemma had thrown in the towel when things grew rowdy and left for home leaving Clay, Chibs and Happy there hanging at the bar. Half-Sack was on serving duty and Leni was sitting listening to the banter between the male bikers. She was in the moment, yet her eyes seemed distant, almost lost. _Not that he cared!_

For Tig, it was a normal Friday night scene - the only thing that looked out of place was _her_. Sure she had the right clothes on, the jeans, the tank top, the tattoos, the studs, the rings and the wallet chain. She was missing her kutte -having taken it off out of respect to SAMCRO- but she held herself the same way as the other bikers did; bold and confident but to Tig - she stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb.

He looked her up and down, over and over again. Sitting there on a the bar stool like she owned the damn place. How could any self-respecting man allow some little piece of ass like her to take the top seat and call the shots? _It wasn't right!_ And yet, it turned him on to think of the strength and fire she'd shown earlier that day. How she'd defended what was hers and stood up to those who questioned her motives and strengths. It would be a real accomplishment -and huge bragging rights- to be able to say he bedded the only female president the outlaw world had ever seen. He was known far and wide for his sexual exploits, adding someone like her to the list would be quite a thing. Like a skipping record, his mind suddenly jumped to the vulnerability she'd show. The emotion in her eyes once the threat to her business had passed. How lost and hurt she looked as she sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by the wreckage of her home. _No! Fuck her!_ She had everyone else to feel sorry for her and indulge her. She was a cocky bitch with baggage that he wanted no part of!

Determined to cause trouble, Tig strode up to the bar and nodded to Half-Sack who instantly slid him a beer and poured out a shot of whiskey to chase it. Tig turned his head to Leni and stared at the back of her head. His eyes burning through her skull - as the desire to get a rise out of her snuck up and grabbed him around the throat. He wanted to push her buttons, make her act out and prove to the others how much trouble she really was. A twinge in his chest said it was wrong to provoke her but the devil inside wanted to rile her up - and the devil in him _always_ got what he wanted.

She tried to ignore the burning sensation and concentrate on the conversation she was having with Chibs. She had hoped she'd be used to Trager's eyes on her after suffering it for almost a whole day but the frosty burn of his gaze stung deeper and deeper now. She had assumed that he'd get off her back since there was a wealth of pussy to chase, but still he loomed over her. Silently provoking her to react, to blow up on him. The better part of her kept her butt firmly fixed to the barstool. However, the aggressive, darker side of her, that grew harder and harder to control the more emotional and tired she became was becoming very difficult to ignore. The fire that simmered inside her patiently waited for the tiniest gap in her control to break out and burn down the world around her.

Unthinking and suddenly powerless to pin back the rebellion inside her, she turned on the stool a little and cocked her head to the side in question to him. "Help you?" She asked, trying not to be further irritated by the sordid way his eyes crawled all over her body.

"Darlin'... there are about a million ways you could help me." He purred, two parts sleaze - one part aggression. Knowing the exact way to push her buttons and get a reaction. Something in her eyes said she was on the edge of a cliff, about to jump off.

"Yeah?" She said, unexpectedly bright for a second then her eyes darkened. "And how many of them left after I cut off your junk?"

A slow smile spread across Tig's face, followed by a lazy laugh. She'd taken the bait. "Think you're a bad ass huh?" He goaded but she still had her temper in a choke hold. "It's cute...seeing a little gash playing dress-up in her Daddy's kutte..."

In an instant her control snapped and she was off her stool and up in his face, barely a couple of inches separating them in height and distance."The fuck you say to me, asshole?" She growled. The atmosphere in the room instantly shifted and all eyes fell on them.

"Oooh, that's tough talk. Don't go forgetting where you are, _princess_!" He grinned, verbally prodding her. After the day she'd had, she was looking for an excuse to throw down on someone - fight out all the frustration and anxiety inside her. She locked her jaw, knowing fists would start flying any second. "I guess Daddy never taught you any manners!" With that she lunged for him - she was ready for a fight but Chibs was quick to react, diving in between them.

Tig laughed cruelly. "Come on! Let her go. Let me see what this bitch can do!" His words made Leni push against Chibs angrily, as he fought to pin her back.

"I'll lay you the fuck out!" She threatened Tig - her eyes wide and ferocious. Which only served to encourage him.

"Come on! Let me see what ya got!" Tig insisted putting down his beer and gesturing with his hands for her to come at him. She had fire in her eyes and he liked it. If she was angry, she'd lose control. Drop the pretty little victim act and show her true colors. Screw herself over by lashing out and proving she couldn't be trusted.

"_Tig!_ Leave it!" Bobby warned, coming over to offer assistant in breaking up the brawl that was about to blow up.

"Don't rise to it sweetheart!" Chibs told her gently. "He's just looking for a new chew toy!" She didn't break her stare, defiant and too proud to back down. Tig didn't know if he was amused or aroused by the fact she'd stood up to him. He didn't know too many women with balls - Gemma definitely, he'd seen her stand her ground with Clay many times and she wasn't unfamiliar with smacking down anyone else who got out of line, but this broad was something else. She had a fire in her eyes that said she didn't react out of duty or as a defense - she reacted because she _liked _confrontation. A hint of the viciousness inside her that he could tell she found hard to contain, and the sadistic part of him couldn't wait to provoke her again - when there was no one around to help. So he could see how tough she _really_ was.

"It's gonna void our agreement if you kill my Sergeant." Clay teased from behind his cigar, and the sound of his voice and the sense he spoke, made Leni's shoulders relax. She knew she couldn't risk lashing out at Tig when she needed him and his brothers on her side. Ordering the rage within her to stand down and telling herself to be the bigger person, she broke their eye-lock and stepped back from Chibs, allowing him to relax.

She needed to release the pressure value inside her, and punching the curly-haired asshole would do the trick in ordinary circumstances but it wasn't the right time or the place to give into her dark impulses. Not in front of the people she had been forced to rely on - she was drowning in enough bad blood. Ordinarily his bullshit wouldn't have caused such a reaction -she'd put up with far worse from a hundred men who took issue with her position- but she was raw. She knew from experience that even the most devoted hater could be converted to seeing her worthiness in time. But she wasn't convinced of much when it came to Tig Trager. However, one thing was certain - if he talked shit to her again - she'd fix him, regardless of who was watching.

The tension faded and smaller groups filtered off. Leni was corralled over to the pool table, a safe distance away from Tig who remained sitting at the bar. Quietly seething and trying to fight the urge to look over in her direction as he began to work his way down a bottle of whiskey. The voice in his head talking so much shit he could barely hear the music playing. _'You should teach that gash a lesson...show her what she really is'_..._'Leave her alone man, she's dealing with enough shit right now'_..._'Goddamn she'd be a great fuck with that temper_'. So much confusion inside him threatening to make him act like a fool. He growled to himself and threw back another shot. Knowing from regular practice that the more hard liquor he drank, the quieter his conscience and immorality became.

**•••••••••••••••••••**

As the night rolled on, people moved around the room. Having easily gotten over the confrontation with Tig, Leni found herself floating between the smaller groups. She spent the most time sitting with Half-Sack, who was closest to her own age. He seemed like such a sweet guy and she found herself wondering how guys as nice as him and Juice wound up living in the world they did - but she knew the MC life drew in all sorts. The prospect picked her brain about ways to survive the early days of MC life and quickly learned that her club didn't go easy on her because of her gender _or _her bloodline. She shared with him some stomach churning stories of the hazing she was put through not so long ago and Half-Sack started to worry about what might be yet to come for him at the hands of the Sons.

Sitting on a stool with his back to the bar and his feet up on another seat, Tig had full view of the clubhouse and couldn't fight the way his eyes were drawn to Leni. Watching bitterly as she laughed with the prospect, exchanging words that he wasn't close enough to overhear. Feeling something that he refused to acknowledge as jealousy - Tig called out to the prospect, demanding he go and check the garage was locked up properly. Not out of concern for Teller-Morrow, but simply out of spite for the bond that was blossoming between Half-Sack and '_No-Sack'_. Tig chuckled to himself, thinking that was a pretty apt name for her - he hoped he wouldn't be too drunk to remember it.

The prospect protested but easily gave in and excused himself, leaving Leni sitting alone at a table. Tig felt a faint sense of guilt pinch him as he looked at her, sitting there by herself. He wanted to go to her, and he hated it. His legs felt twitchy, as if they were trying to make him to her but suddenly Happy called out and waved her over to the pool table. Instantly the tenderness he felt hardened into animosity. He knocked back another shot of whiskey and watched bitterly as Happy rack up the balls for a game with her - laying down a few bucks to make it interesting.

The way she strutted around the table to break made his hackles go up, he was sure she knew he was watching. Doing things to stoke his fiery anger like laughing with _his friends_, giving Happy a little shove as he boasted about his excellent shot -which pocketed two balls at once-, sharing a joint with the men as if she'd always been a fixture in their world. When her back was to him, she bent over the pool table in such a way that give him a clear view of the pert little ass that he hungered to touch. When facing him, she'd stretch out for a shot, flashing him a glimpse of her perfect cleavage. Showing off the warm valley between her full breasts that would hug his cock so wonderfully. He slammed back another shot of whiskey, scowling at her as it burned its way down his throat - sending the idea to play her at her own game popping into his head.

Catching the eye of a Friday night familiar, he took his legs off the barstool next to him and sat up straight, gesturing for the woman to come over to him. Knowing exactly what he'd called her over for, her hands were all over him in an instant. Yet Tig kept his eyes fixed on Leni as she continued to move around the pool table, waiting for her to look his way as Happy set about lining up his next play. Playfully, Leni tapped the back of Happy's cue just as he was about to take his shot. His mouth fell open and glared at her with a smile in his eyes. Making a lunge for her as if he was going to attack but they both started laughing. Tig's jaw tightened -_ fuckin' sassy bitch!_ If she'd pulled that shit on him, he would have bent her over the pool table and...He swallowed hard, an image of her and Happy entangled together on top of the red felt flashing in front of his eyes. "Bitch!" He mumbled to himself.

"What's wrong baby?" The woman stuck to his hip asked.

"Shut up!" He told her and grabbed at her face, kissing her hard. His eyes never leaving Leni, who hadn't even looked his way. Bitterness stung at the back of his throat. Why the hell was he playing such stupid games? He was a straight-to-the-point kind of guy - this gash was turning him inside out.

•••••••••••••••••••

As the booze began to flow heavier and the crows began to circle more eagerly, Leni found herself drifting away from the Sons. Talking to friends of the club, getting a feel for the people of Charming and the surround areas. They were warm and welcoming but always quietly cautious which Leni had come to expect from people of their subculture. She'd been drinking heavily to help sink the guilt but still a large part of her felt shitty for letting her hair down, knowing the men she loved and trusted were out on the front lines. Half of them awake and on guard for trouble, the other half trying to get some sleep ready for the day-watch. She hated the situation she was in, knowing there was nothing she could do to help. It was eating away at her and she needed to forget before the anxiety drove her insane.

Tig lazily played with a bottle of beer as he sat at the bar. He'd chased off the female company after deciding whiskey felt nicer than the womans dutiful hands. He didn't know what was wrong with him but he wasn't in the mood for entertaining pussy. He had too much on his mind and too much to keep watch on to relax. So, instead of making himself at home in some woman's cleavage - he found himself studying his enemy. Watching the way Leni moved around the room and how she behaved around the new people she met. The way she drank interested him most of all. Going hard - knocking back shots of whiskey, necking it straight out the bottle, then easing back for a drink or two. Opting to mix in cola for the sugar boost to help counter the alcohol before she lost complete hold of herself. It was interesting to see how she let go of her grip on control just a enough to taste the freedom but not loose enough to let it completely slip from her hand. Allowing her to snap back into sobriety the second she should need to. She was always watching the room as she talked to people, her eyes scanning for new faces and hints of trouble. She was with friends -in safety- but somehow she still felt alone, vulnerable and her guard was up first glance, you wouldn't see it. Hell, you'd struggle to find trace of it on a second or third look but if you watched long enough, you could see it and Tig understood.

Part of his role in the club was to be the guard dog, to read people and be the first to react if trouble walked in. Sure he knew how to let himself go and have fun but he was rarely ever out of control of himself or his surroundings. Drinking just enough to feel the buzz and silence the torment in his head. Seeing such a similar side to her made his bitterness towards her retract but his confusion about her rose higher. He didn't like her being there - getting SAMCRO involved in her drama but a tiny portion of him suddenly couldn't bare to think of her gone either. It was the booze making him mellow. He hated it but at that moment he couldn't deny how she interested him. Even if she also angered him, aroused him and amused him all at the same time. He enjoyed provoking people and he was getting a kick out of playing around with her. Poking and prodding her like a cat would mess with a captured mouse. Sure, there had been malice in his actions and the way she cut him down still stung, but the draw to aggravate and unnerve her was rooted something more. His head was too messed up to understand what or why yet, but something told him it stemmed from a part of him that he tried daily to keep buried.

Swigging from a bottle of whiskey he let his eyes drop to the ashtray in front of him while his mind wandered into deep thoughts of her. Their age difference intrigued him - he was _at least_ twenty years older than her but something in her eyes -the way she carried herself- told him she was much older in her mind and soul than her body. He thought back to the badges on her kutte and wondered about the things she'd done to earn them. Had she killed as many people as he had? Or even close to it? Had she sold her soul for her club? Did she have innocent blood on her hands too? He felt the familiar chill run through him and he poured some more whiskey in to chase it away - hating that he was slipping into that darkness again. He shook those thoughts off, he wasn't trying to understand himself and what he'd done and he wasn't trying to understand _her_ either. She was nothing to him, and he'd never be anything to her either.

He lifted his maudlin head again and his eyes naturally fell back on her. She was leaning her shoulder against the wall next to the piano, still chatting to the woman she'd been talking to for a while but something was different now. His emotions didn't know if they should jump to jealousy or excitement. The slim woman, with hair that was part raven black and part bright purple -a familiar hang-around- was standing in front of Leni - her fingers walking over the bikers belt buckle. Rocking from side to side, giving a coy look in the same way the crows did when they were trying to seduce a Son. Their body language and gestures left no room for doubt - _they were flirting!_ Tig felt a lazy smirk peel across his lips. He should have known she bent that way. She'd struggle to find a guy who was content to be with a woman who had a disposition like hers. A man who'd be willing to lay down with a woman who had more power and balls than he did.

He looked on with tingling building in his crotch as the two women almost kissed but Leni pulled back a little, giving the goth chick a cocky smile. She whispered something in her ear before slipping out from in front of her and walking over to the bar. She could feel Tig's eyes on her but she didn't so much as cast a glance in his direction. Stepping up to the counter a foot or two away from him, nodding to the guy working the bar for a refill.

"I knew you were a dyke!" He mocked. A little disappointed but still hopeful that given the right opportunity he'd get her to change directions. She turned her head to him slowly and gave a smug half-smile. If that's what he wanted to think - _he was welcome to_. He would never understand her reasons for choosing women over men, even if she _tried_ to explain to him. Pleasure was pleasure - when her mind was in turmoil, she really didn't care how she got it. She had learned that when it came to sex, women were safer than men -in more ways than one- and she could only relax if she felt safe.

"Any port in a storm!" She teased, taking a drink from her glass of whiskey and coke. Her reply intrigued him even more and he watched intently as she smirked at him, rolling a small chunk of ice around in her mouth before crushing it brutally with her teeth. It was a simple move but to Tig it felt like the sexiest thing he'd_ ever_ seen. His eyes were fixed on her, all previous over emotional soul-searching was instantly forgotten - replaced by sheer arousal. She gave him an unintentionally seductive look with darkened eyes and moved away from the bar, taking her glass and another for the goth looking piece she'd picked up. Tig grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the counter and moved over to the couch besides the bar. Where he knew would provide him the best view and a more comfortable place to sit with a hard on.

His eyes continued to feast on the two pretty women. He knew he could get his own piece of ass with a click of his fingers but he was enjoying the show far too much. They hadn't kissed yet, but the way they whispered to each other was sexy. The subtle touches, flirty laughter and coy smiles were doing it for him. The room was full of semi drunk people, half of whom were already getting it on with their pussy-de-jour but all Tig could see was the show before him. Leni let her hand slide down the woman's side, gently cupping and then squeezing her ass. Giving Tig a cheap thrill - she knew he was watching. It felt so wrong but it turned her on to feel his hungry eyes on her. It was a tiny taste of revenge and she loved it. Giving him just a sample of what he desired, before snatching his enjoyment away from right under his nose.

With a whisper in the woman's ear, Leni took her hand and lead her away from the center of activity, walking over towards the corridor. Approaching Tig with a cocky sway in her hips as she towed the woman behind her. Tig looked up at her hopefully from the couch. "Can I watch?" He purred. Knowing what the answer would be, but trying his luck anyway.

Leni gave him a smug smile and replied with her middle finger. "Watch this!" She instructed flipping him the bird as she disappeared down the corridor with her fun for the night. Tig smirked to himself for a moment -there was no doubt- he was under her skin, just as she was under his.

Suddenly, as if her departure had sucked all the warmth and light from the room - Tig felt himself being pulled back into the dark, cold recesses of his mind. He knocked back some more whiskey and shook that shit off. He couldn't handle warring with himself anymore, he needed to find his own distraction - between someone's legs.

He got up from the couch, downed a little more whiskey and stalked across the room to the gathering of crows near the pool table. A swarm of women floated around a portion of the bikers, some claimed - others still looking for a hook up. Without any hesitation or remorse he selected a blonde crow in a skirt that was better described as a belt. Nodding to Chibs and Happy, confirming he wasn't cutting in on anymore. Taking her by the wrist and pulling her over to the couch to become acquainted. If anything was going to make him forget the shadows in his mind and that crazy lesbian bitch - it was pussy. But no sooner had he warmed the woman up enough to get his hands in all the right places than Juice swooped over, dropping a wedge of papers into his lap.

"That's what you wanted!" He said solemnly before walking away the pool table to finally join in the fun.

Tig looked up and smiled wickedly. "Thanks man." His interest immediately passing from the promise of sex to the details of the woman who had infected his mind like some kind of disease.

Without warning he stood up, knocking the crow off his lap and stalking away to his room. Juice and Chibs looked at each other, concern passing between them. They didn't know Leni well enough to know what she was thinking but when it came to Tig it was blatant what was on his mind - and they knew it had the potential to burn the clubhouse to the ground, in one way or another.

•••••••••••••••••••

Headed for his room with the story of Leni's life in his hand, Tig took a moment to stand outside her closed door. He listened closely, but couldn't hear anything from inside the apartment. He contemplated busting in, seeing what was happening for himself but he couldn't make his hand reach out for the door handle. Instead, he turned and disappeared into his own apartment opposite. A bitter taste in his mouth at the thought of her getting with a woman just a few feet away from where he was - alone in the mixed embers of unsatisfied lust, anger and confusion. Unable to concentrate on getting his own kicks for the thoughts of her running rampage through his head.

Sitting down on his bed, he began to look over the pile of freshly printed papers Juice had given to him. There was a copy of her rap sheet, medical records and an old psych evaluation. Along with a picture of her driver's license and bunch of surveillance photos from a federal case that never grew legs. He looked at the photos first, eager to see a visualization of her normal life. There was an array of full color and black and white photo print outs. Various candid images that Tig found himself getting a crazy kick out of seeing. There were many snaps of her on or around her bike, dressed in her kutte and laughing with various men - some of whom Tig recognized. Pictures of her at work, running the tow company, taking stock at the salvage yard, even talking to door staff outside an unidentifiable nightclub. What interested Tig more were the intimate shots of her, arriving and departing her house, hanging with other bikers, out shopping and jogging. He felt the warmth building in his lower abdomen. She was beautiful, with a body that was a perfect mix of slim, womanly curves and toned strength. Looking at her inspired so many dirty thoughts. Images of her frozen in time, allowing him to really admire her assets. It teased the voyeuristic desires in him, made him more curious - more hungry to devour whatever he could about her.

As he turned the page, his leer suddenly turned sombre as his eyes fell on photos of her at her father's funeral. She was wearing a short black dress, her eyes covered by sunglasses, emotions unreadable but he could sense her pain. The sight of her sadness made a shiver run through the heat of arousal within him, too many memories coming back too fast. Donna's death was still so fresh in him mind, it took so much out of him to not dwell on it. Not to fall into the darkness that threatened to consume him.

A whisper of a thought passed through his mind - maybe Leni was what he needed, some kind of weighty distraction. Something to focus his mind on while the open wounds in his soul healed back up. _No_! He couldn't afford to give her any value - _not like that._

Quickly shaking off the positive suggestion, he moved to the other photos. Finding amusement from the snaps of her flipping off the surveillance team on her tail. He smiled to himself - she was ballsy, and sharp. Didn't mean he liked her any though!

Next, he moved on to the finer details. Pages of information, chronicling the life of Aralen Seraphina Jericho. Last name was an abbreviation stemming from her Eastern European ancestors and an over worked immigration officer. Her first name, an amalgamation of her paternal Grandmother name -a Russian called Lenora, and her maternal Grandmother - a Sicilian named Arabella. There were a few details about her father but he knew him well enough not to need to look. Ex-military, tough as a junkyard dog, with a highly chequered past in numerous shady areas of the criminal underworld. Rap sheet as long as Tig and Clay's put together! Her mother -a woman of Sicilian and Cuban breeding- was named Irena Russo and was long diseased. Shot dead in the cross fire of a mugging gone bad as she left a florist one afternoon. Leni was only six years old when it happened and was fortunate enough not to be a witness to it. Henry never remarried nor did he father any known children. Leni was the sole heir to her father's empire and all the danger that went hand in hand with it.

To Tig's surprise -and anger- a spouse was listed: Dante "Dee-Dee" DeFioré. No photograph but he was named as a business owner who held residences in Sacramento, Los Angeles and Reno as well as New York. He was flagged for having ties to criminal activities but his name didn't ring any bells, and that made Tig more curious. From what he could see, they had married around five years earlier in Las Vegas - when Leni was barely into her twenties. The marriage hardly lasted a minute before the pair divorced and went their separate ways. Tig wondered if this "Dee-Dee" character was the one to turn her on to women, but he guessed it was safe to assume she'd found a taste for pussy while in the big house.

Curious, he plucked out her criminal record. Discovering straight away that Clay was right; she was a brawler! A quick glance showed him that throughout her years, she had numerous arrests for assault and battery, disorderly conduct and criminal damage. Tig couldn't help but smile when his eyes caught on an unusual charge - which stated she and two other members of her MC had been charged with a count of inciting a riot in the early 2000's. They were tossed into the county lock-up for thirty days and were fined a king's ransom. His eyebrows raised again with another smile when he spotted an arrest and fine for indecent exposure from a moving vehicle, somewhere in Nevada. The product of a wild night in Vegas, he guessed. His mind wandering to the scenario for a moment before focusing back on the task in his hands.

It seemed that she began her criminal record during what Tig calculated to have been her mid teens, but her crimes were more than adolescent rebellion. She was barely fifteen when she landed her first arrest for breaking and entering and things spiraled from there. For the next two years she was pinched numerous times for crimes varying from violence to theft of property and vehicles, reckless driving to possession of drugs and firearms. Her exploits had seen her serve some short time in Contra Costa Juvenile Hall and landed her a shitload of community service. It looked as if incarceration didn't teach her anything as she was back at it every time she cleared probation. The words on the page painted a picture of a wild youth but oddly, between the ages of seventeen and nineteen her record remained almost completely clear. He couldn't find any record of incarceration and he wondered what had happened to keep her out of trouble. She hadn't given up her criminal deeds as it seemed her record steadily gained a wealth of new additions after she turned nineteen but fortunately for her, it seemed that money and connections bought her an excellent lawyer that managed to deflect any felony charges that came her way. Talking most everything the law threw at her down to misdemeanors or writing off the charges entirely. Largely thanks to forgetful witnesses and missing evidence. Tig knew firsthand how that was the beauty of having some persuasive friends in the right places. There wasn't a person on the planet they couldn't get to -given the right information- and that regularly helped keep most of the Sons and the Saints out of the big house.

Highlighted in her file was a charge she'd received around the age of twenty-one. She'd been brought to trial over a incident of aggravated assault - after someone didn't take kindly to having their ass kicked by a girl in a bar fight. The case was ruled as self-defence and she's walked away. However, less than three months later, her luck ran out. She was sentenced to serve a year in Valley State after being found guilty of possessing an unlicensed firearm and assaulting a police officer. Tig skipped through a couple of pages to find the details of her incarceration. Reading quickly to find that she only served eight months due to good behavior and keeping her head down and out of trouble. Spending most of her time learning what she could from books and keeping herself active and strong by working out. What interested Tig was the mention of how she was treated for several injuries during her stay. He looked for details on her suffering but nothing was noted, it did however seem that she'd been pushed on numerous occasions to incriminate her attacker, but she kept quiet - claiming she was just accident prone. What was even more interesting was how, less than four months after she was released - she was questioned over the disappearance of a warden who worked her cellblock. No evidence was ever found to tie her to his disappearance but investigating officers made it clear she and the Devils Saints MC were prime suspects. _That_ was a story Tig wanted to hear. Painting an ugly mental picture of what must have happened to her while she was inside.

In almost six years since her release, not only had she married and divorced but she'd been fingered in and arrested for several crimes. Luckily for her, she wasn't charged and nothing stuck - due to the lack or loss of evidence and testimony, and a crafty lawyer. Bikers closed ranks around her and pulled out all the stops to prevent her going back to prison. Knowing that she would be a prime target for attacks from guards if they discovered her connections to the disappearance of one of their own.

His fingers found her medical records and psychological assessment next. It felt more than a little twisted to look through them - but he couldn't help himself. There wasn't much to see in her health records and he guessed she got most of her treatment at the Clubhouse Clinic the same as he and his brothers did. Disappointingly, the psych evaluation was several years old, from her final stint in Juvie. The shrink who wrote it wasn't very complimentary. Telling of how Leni had a problem with authority figures and gender roles. Labeling her as having a tendency to favor violence and enjoy confrontation. Noting a suggestion that she take therapy to deal with her anger and unresolved issues. Tig was curious about what exactly her '_unresolved issues_' were but he told himself he shouldn't care. He was more concerned about how she managed to keep all the aggression she supposedly had pinned down in the way she did. He guessed she'd become wiser and more controlled as she aged. Choosing her battles wisely, keeping the anger stored inside for when she _really_ needed it. She certainly seemed like an interesting character, with a story or six to tell but Tig wouldn't allow himself to want to get to know her. The only thing he wanted to feel out was the warm, moist place between her thighs.

His mind was swimming with information and images, forming an interesting picture of Leni's life and times. Smiling to himself slyly, he turned back to the pictures of her and felt his body respond. Getting back up to score a piece of pussy at the bar now felt too much like hard work. Maybe if he released some of the tension he was feeling in her name, he'd be a little less hostile towards her. He knew it was unlikely, but one form of release would feel as good as another at that moment and a little mental escape was exactly what he needed. A fantasy about her bad girls ways and what he'd do to her if he could get alone and vulnerable wouldn't hurt, _would it?_

**A/N:** _Okay guys, that's all for now. I'd love to know what you think now the games have begun._


	6. Chapter 5: Casus Belli

Hey all...firstly, sorry for the slack update. Life has been a bit crazy lately and I haven't been able to find time to sit and get into the right head-space for editing this properly. But I'm here now, and hope you're all still out there. Thanks so much to everyone who left me feedback on the last chapter, especially those who take time out to leave a comment or send a PM. Your words encourage and inspire me!

I should also mention that as I get deeper into the main storyline, I'm on the lookout for a beta to throw some constructive criticism my way, discuss my plans for the story and help keep things running smoothly, so if anyone if interested in giving me a hand, drop me a PM or an email to **oscuritadentro**AT**gmail**DOT**com**

This chapter is dedicated to a dear friend of mine (and partner in SOA fan-girling) who once said "I wonder what the Sons did to off people in hospital before Chucky came along..." That throw away commented spawned a plot bunny with played into my plans for this story so well...here we are! Trust me, it's all building to a bigger picture and it will come together in time!

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•  
**Testosterone by Bush **  
**Hell Yeah by Rev Theory **  
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**Wicked Games** || Chapter Five || **Casus Belli **

The weekend passed by, during which Leni kept to herself as much as she could. It wasn't that she didn't feel comfortable enough to socialize -she did- but she was struggling to keep her head above the swelling tides of frustration and worry and it seemed easier to lay low. She wanted to avoid stepping on anyone's toes and any further confrontation with Tig. Knowing that if she allowed him too, he would push all the wrong buttons again and shatter the fragile control she'd regained on her temper.

Luckily, since she'd departed Sacramento, things had been oddly quiet for her own MC and she was cautiously grateful for the calm. Finn made the short trip down to Charming for a visit, to bring her things and discuss business and plans of action for their club. Mostly she did what needed to be done for the Devil's Saints MC -and their interests out of the apartment in the SAMCRO clubhouse. She worked alone, using her laptop and cell-phone to co-ordinate her patches and employees, keeping herself in the loop as best she could.

She hated being locked down, and far away from her home, it made her feel useless but she knew Clay was right to make her stay. Things were escalating in the city and if whoever was making threats against her achieved their goal - it would be open season on all her father and her family had worked for. With her VP in jail for another few months and cracks already showing in her bond with some members of her club, things threatened to collapse like a Jenga tower if another blow rocked them. In her head, she knew by staying safely out of the way she defused some potentially explosive situations, but her stomach was constantly twisting with frustration and anxiety.

Although she struggled internally with being so far away from where she felt she needed to be - she was relieved by the pause in drama. Assured by knowing there was really nothing she could do any better in the thick of it, than she was doing from Charming.

In contrast to the fragile calm Leni felt, Tig had spent the weekend dancing between, annoyance, excitement, confusion and indifference over her presence. Regardless of how she tried to keep out of everyone's way especially his- just knowing she was in the building got to him. He wanted to see more of her yet when she was around all he could do was scowl and snarl and wish her away. Unsure of what he was feeling or what he _really_ thought about her and trying his best not to dwell on it.

He had hoped learning a little bit more about her -from the information Juice turned up- would do something to calm the storm inside, but it only made things worse. It seemed that not only did he now battle with anger, resentment and arousal but curiosity was rapidly fermenting into something he also struggled to control. He had so many questions and he hated it. He didn't want to be interested, he didn't want to care enough to wonder about her - he had enough to worry about!

She was nothing but a pain in his ass and although the idea of screwing with her some more inspired him, he took every opportunity to distract himself from sinking into deeper contemplation. Trying as much as possible to shut off his mind from wandering too far away with thoughts of her.

Despite his aversion to her presence in the clubhouse -and his mind- he'd made every excuse he could to pass by her apartment door when she was inside. Making opportunities and over stretched excuses to go to his own apartment opposite hers - which he had avoided as much as possible before her residency.

With a cocktail of mixed feelings, he'd sneak an eager listen at her door whenever he thought he'd get away with it. He could never hear much but it didn't stop him trying. Muffled talking, the faintest sound of typing on a laptop or calculator. Silence if she was sleeping or reading. What drove him was his protective instinct and loyalty to the club, making him need to be sure she wasn't up to no good, right under his nose. What encouraged him to keep checking was the hope that perhaps he'd catch her vulnerable, naked or maybe even be invited inside.

After two days of seeing nothing but the wood grain -to his surprise- on Monday morning, her door was wide open. Smiling to himself in approval, he closed his own door and stepped across the corridor into hers. Craning his neck into the room without putting a foot over the threshold. His hungry smirk softened when he caught sight of her - she was sitting at the small desk at the far end of the room, covering her face with her hand and was clearly tense.

His lustful eyes ran over her, fully dressed in light blue jeans, her black boots and a slim fitting, v neck black t-shirt, and all the accessories he was growing used to seeing her wear. "Jesus Christ! Is he alright?" She growled into the phone. Tig listened in closely, guessing something bad had happened, _again_. "I'm coming up ther-" She moved, raising a little from the seat but sank straight back into it when she was cut off. She continued listening, her face showing her anger as she stared at the floor. "Finn, I..." Her jaw tensed at her Sergeants interjection but it sent some relief to Tig to know who she was talking with. "Alright..._alright..._Jesus!" She closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep a lid on an overreaction. There was another length of silence as she listed on. "Just keep me posted okay?" They exchanged a few more short words and she hung up on a sigh, leaning forwards and dry washing her face with her hands. "Fuck me!"

"All you had to do was ask!" Tig's voice shattered the silence and she looked up sharply to catch him standing in the doorway -leaning against the jamb- watching her like she was lunch. Those alluring blue eyes making her skin prickle with sensations she has been trying not to acknowledge and did not want to feel. He looked good - a little _too _good. A black shirt under his kutte, unbuttoned to show a patch of chest and rolled to the elbows showing off the leather he wore around his wrists and the tattoo on his forearm. She hated that her eyes were demanding that she looked but she couldn't stop them lingering on him. The dark gray jeans he had on fit him well in all the right places but she wasn't going to allow herself to admit she thought that. He was an asshole. The tide she had to fight against. And the less she saw of him - the happier she'd be.

She'd been trying her best to avoid him since their little altercation a couple of nights prior. Every time they were in the same room all she could feel was his eyes on her, staring daggers one minute, undressing her the next. Whenever she looked at him, he looked away. If she did manage to catch him, all she got was an icy scowl.

She'd struggled to prevent her mind from wondering about him over the weekend. She knew the type of guy he was, a misogynistic asshole who wanted to bed her for the challenge and the bragging rights. She also knew if she reacted to his subtle provocations she'd just encourage him, but she was quickly growing tired of resisting the urge to respond to him with challenge. People were still getting hurt in her name and she could feel the wounds opening up inside her again - letting the demon that loved to stir up trouble sneak out.

"Blow me!" She said dismissively.

Tig smirked, confidently. "Doll, if you actually had a dick - _I would_!"

"I don't doubt it!" She retorted, seeing how Tig's eyes lit up with stimulation, his mouth opening to speak but before he could get a word out, she was up on her feet - stunting him. He recoiled, his jaw freezing mid-word, shocked into submission by her unexpected movement.

She marched over to him, barely giving him a second to admire the way her hips moved before she was up close - _really_ close. So close in fact that he could feel the warmth of her body against his. Smell her hair, feel her breath on his skin. Hell, if he tried he'd be able to pucker his lips and kiss hers.

They stared at each other for a moment - her above average height bringing them almost eye to eye. Tig's excitement rose higher by the second. He couldn't believe what was happening! In that moment he realized just how much he wanted her - how much he _needed_ her. Demanding, eager urges swelled at his core as their breathing leveled out, low and deep; _hungry_.

Her eyes dropped to his lips as she moved ever so slightly closer into him. The curve of her breasts lightly brushing his chest as his mouth opened a little, ready to receive hers. All the hairs went up on the back of his neck, sending the buzz of arousal direct to his crotch.

_She was going to kiss him!_

He had no time to think of why or how it was finally happening, all he cared about was her giving into him. His breath caught in his throat, his mouth screaming with desire for him to snatch control and end her hesitation - but he couldn't move. He was being sucked under her spell. Drawn in. Ready to receive what he'd unknowingly been longing for - to touch her, to taste her. He felt his mind go fuzzy with longing as her body heat mingled with his. His hands itched to touch her. His body full or desire and his mind lost in the promises her closeness whispered.

Suddenly -in one fluid motion- she pulled back from him, snatching away her warmth. Snapping him out from under the veil of lust by slamming the door shut, right in his face!

His nose just millimeters from touching the wood as the lock clicked tight on the other side. The promise of excitement whipped away, allowing cold to rush back in as a deep growl rumbled in his chest. Yet strangely, he didn't feel anger. The potential of the moment temporarily overrode the irritation within him and he smiled wickedly. She was a tease, a tough nut to crack but they were always the sweetest and he knew he'd get it - _one way or another._

"Don't fight it baby!" He yelled through the door.

"Fuck off!" Came the muffled reply and Tig laughed wickedly. Smug that she'd sunk down to his level _again_. Sure, she'd played him but she did so because he'd got under her skin. That gave him an odd yet welcomed sense of victory.

Marking one up in_ his_ win column -not hers- he sauntered through the corridor and out into the bar area where he met with the troubled faces of his brothers. His mood instantly dropped, he could taste the trouble in the air.

Jax took his cigarette out of his mouth and nodded to Tig. "We got a problem brother!"

••••••••••••••••••• **  
**

"I knew it! I fuckin' knew it!" Tig barked as he paced the bar, his shoulders and fists tense. "They would've switched him off last year if there was no chance he'd come round!"

"The doctors say he might not be able to remember a thing..." Juice tried to offer as comfort.

"He'll remember!" Chibs growled, knocking back a shot of whiskey. "Bastards like that always do!"

"We shoulda taken him out the picture a long time ago!" Bobby put in, worry on his shoulders at the looming threat. The Sons knew he was right but there was no turning back time back now.

"Shoulda, woulda, coulda!" Clay dismissed as he stubbed out his cigar - having heard enough pissing and moaning. "No one thought he was going to wake up!" He reminded. "We gotta figure out how the fuck we make this right - _and fast_!" The Sons nodded, they needed to come up with a plan of how to finally remove the black cloud that had lurked in the background of their lives for the best part of a year.

"He's under guard...we'll never be able to..." Bobby stopped talking when he noticed Leni was standing near the kitchen.

"Mornin' darlin'!" Jax offered, trying to distract from the scene before she heard too much.

"Mornin'..." She said, glancing around at the tense faces. "...I'm interruptin' aren't I?" She asked, seemingly a little nervous. It was difficult not to overstep the unspoken boundaries of another MC's clubhouse.

"It's okay." Clay assured. "Do what you gotta do. We shouldn't be talkin' about this out here anyway." With that he herded the guys into the privacy of the chapel. Tig's eyes met with Leni's as he passed and he shot her a scornful look which she returned effortlessly. The new threat to his club had quickly turned him sour and he hated how everyone he knew seemed so eager to bend to her presence. His home didn't feel like his own with her lurking around.

Once the chapel door was shut on the drama, Leni walked to the bar and took a seat in front of Half-Sack who was kindly pouring her a cup of coffee.

"Thanks!" She smiled, taking a sip. The prospect gave her a warm smile and she looked him over. Wondering for a moment if asking him was wrong, but her mouth was running away with her curiosity before she could stop it. "What's up with them?"

Half-Sack shrugged, he wasn't sure if he should tell her or not but he guessed she'd hear about it one way or another. "From what I gathered, some guy they really don't like has woken up from a coma and could bring a shit-storm down on us."

"_Damn_!" Leni winced. Her mind instantly going to thoughts of who this person might be. There were always rumors and gossip floating through their world - but she couldn't recall hearing about anyone in a coma. However, she guessed with so much tension in the air, whatever this guy had on SAMCRO - it was big.

Almost an hour passed before the men emerged from the chapel again, releasing a heavy atmosphere into the barroom. Concerned faces and burdened shoulders flooding out into the heart of the clubhouse. Jax ducked out of the building with his cell-phone at his ear, a tense expression on his face as Sack racked up beers for the remaining Sons. Leni watched on from her seat at the bar, unsure if she should make an exit or stay put.

Smaller groups of Sons took drinks and filtered out to tables and sofas but Clay and Tig stuck by the bar, with heads bowed in thought. Leni felt awkward, looking into her coffee cup for guidance before Clay turned his head to her.

"Sorry about that." He offered, taking a sip of his beer.

Leni dismissed his apology with a shake of her head, she was the one that should apologize. "Is there anythin' I can do to help?" She was desperate to do anything she could to make herself feel useful to someone. She felt like a spare part, sitting around waiting for the bomb to drop on her club - any distraction from that would be a welcome one.

"Wouldn't happen to have a time machine, would ya?" He joked breaking the tension.

Leni smiled. "I wish!"

"We just got some bad news is all..." He gave, feeling an unexpected urge to explain. "...'bout a year back..." He stopped short noticing Tig staring daggers into him. Clay raised his eyebrows, as if to ask Tig what his problem was but there was no challenge returned. The wild haired biker simply knocked back some more beer and glared fire into the wall. "...We had a problem with certain supplies...we found out there was _yard sale _happenin', in Concord - only it turned out to be a little more popular than first thought..." Leni could tell just by the way he spoke that it was more like a snatch-and-grab out from under the nose of some rival or another. "We thought we'd off'd everyone who could fingers us but when the police showed up they found one sonovabitch still breathin'..." Clay didn't think too much on why, but he felt that he could trust Leni - he guessed because of her father.

He'd trusted that man implicitly during times of war, and he knew if she was anything like him - she was a woman of honor. She had opened up to him when she first arrived looking for help, bared a part of her own clubs soul. Telling him about their issues, both external and internal as they settled on a deal for her to offer the other men that made up SAMCRO. He didn't owe her anything and she seemed too young to be wise enough to offer a remedy, but some instinct or another told him he should share the problem with her.

He guessed she'd want to know the finer details of the problem, but he knew there wasn't much point. _How_ and _why_ it all happened wasn't the issue - what they were going to do to fix it was what concerned him. "Bodies from three different gangs..." He explained. "...Feds were all over it...they stuck him on life support, crossin' fingers he'd wake up and roll over on someone...We all thought they'd switch him off before he ever woke up..._but_ ..." Clay's eyes said it all, he didn't need to elaborate anymore, Leni understood.

"Wow...that _is_ some bad news."

"Yep! Probably got a couple of days before the Feds lean on him...maybe less if his Mayan buddies show up first" Leni bit her lip in thought, it was a sticky situation for the MC to be in. "We've got a fragile truce goin' on with our brown friends - if they find out we were the ones who jacked the guns that lost them half of Oakland _and_ took out a bunch of their guys..._well_...it would be a problem." Clay mused and Leni nodded thoughtfully. "Doesn't seem to be a way that we can get to him without riskin' exposure to the club...so if he remembers what happened..."

"You're all in a world of pain?" Leni asked and Clay nodded gravely watching as the cogs turned in her head.

Due to her own past and that of her club, she was no stranger to the disposing of witnesses. Having SAMCRO on edge over the threat to them, was in turn a risk to her. She knew it would be in her best interests for the Sons to be clear of excess drama. Of course, it would all boil down to how much trust the club had in her but she hoped offering her help -as a show of good faith- would buy her some confidence, as well as respect.

The smart move was to get involved with the dirty deeds of SAMCRO. Show them that she wasn't just the piece of pussy in a kutte and was prepared to do whatever _'the life'_ required of her. If nothing else, it would give her a little leverage should relations ever sour between clubs in the future.

"Maybe I _can_ help..." She offered. Clay looked at her curiously, thinking it was worth a shot. It wasn't like they had anything to lose by hearing her out.

•••••••••••••••••••

For privacy's sake, the bikers took Leni into the Chapel. They couldn't risk one of the hang-arounds over hearing them plotting someone's demise. There was also an ever-present risk of Unser -or someone else with a badge- arriving unannounced so they circled around safety of the redwood table, offering Leni a seat besides Piney. Who -like Clay- knew her father had a solid reputation for making problems such as the one they had magically _disappear._

"We can't walk in...we can't even get close to the hospital. ATF only just got out from up our asses...all it'd take is one hint of trouble to bring 'em swarmin' back!" Jax told her, unsure of how he felt about involving her but willing to listen to any suggestion or offer she could bring to the table. "We don't know the hospital well enough to be sure we could block all the cameras...and if any one of us gets seen...

Leni nodded, he didn't need to explain. She knew if any of the Sons were captured on camera lurking around the hospital, at the wrong time it would tie straight back to SAMCRO and cause untold trouble. She retreated into her thoughts for a moment, piecing together a plan and trying not to notice how Tig was glaring at her again. He was baring the weight of the clubs problem more than anyone, feeling responsible for not making absolutely certain every enemy at the hijacked deal was dead.

What annoyed him most of all was the image of her being sat at the Sons table - she wasn't a patched member, she was an outsider and a female one at that. He didn't trust her! He didn't care who she was in Sacramento, who her father was or how much experience she had with covert operations - anyone without a SAMCRO patch was a potential danger to his club; _his family_.

"You say he's under guard?" She asked, her eyes dark and contemplating.

"Yeah." Juice put in. "Feds farmed out the watch to local PD months ago. Apparently just one cop sittin' outside the door but they might beef that up once they know word's out that he's awake!"

She nodded thoughtfully, trying hard not to let Tig's disgruntled eyes derail her train of thought. "You know what the general security like at this hospital?"

Juice had never visited the medical center in Concord but from what he'd found out online the place was bigger than Saint Thomas in Charming but not much different in terms of defense. "Guessin' the usual. A few rent-a-cops. Cameras. Nothin' serious."

"Okay..." The men remained silent for a moment, watching Leni think as she plotted out her plan of action. "I think I know how to fix this..." The Sons exchanged glances with one another, none one was exactly thrilled by the idea of her being involved with club business, but using an outsider seemed to be the only way to avoid tying the crime directly back to their MC.

"What are you thinkin'?" Clay asked, keen to know what plan she'd devised.

She looked to Jax, who's eyes were already on her. "Your old Lady works at the hospital here, right?"

"Yeah? Why?" His voice was tight, concerned she was bringing Tara into her plan.

"You think she could snag me a pair of scrubs and a lab coat?"

Jax's expression softened with a hint of a smile. "Absolutely!"

"What's your plan Leni?" Piney asked her, eager to know what was going on in her head. Able to feel her buzzing with thoughts on how to pull it all together.

"Well...the key to it, is havin' a couple of distractions... and a little bit of authority." She looked to Juice. "Can you make me up an ID badge for the hospital? Nothin' fancy, just enough to fool the cop."

"No problem."

She then looked to Clay. "I can pull in some of my guys in to help out, if I can use some of yours to fill in the holes they'll leave on watch?"

"Sure! Whatever you need." Clay assured, intrigued by her plan and oddly pleased by her willingness to get her hands dirty for SAMCRO.

"We'll gonna need a pair of junkers, I can get them from our salvage yard..." Leni said, thinking out loud. "And we'll need a couple of hookers too..."

"For what?" Chibs asked, finding it an odd combination.

"Well...gettin' rid of the cop on watch is only part of the problem, right?" She asked and Chibs nodded. "We need to keep rent-a-cop busy too...Otherwise the badge could be back on the door before I've even stepped in the room." No one could argue with that. "If we use my men and the junkers to cause an accident in the car park and therefore - _a fight_...that should keep hospital security busy. Then, if the hookers cause a ruckus in the hospital reception, that gives _me_ an excuse to get the cop away from the door for a minute."

Tig's jaw tightened at the sound of her involvement in the plan. He couldn't believe his brothers were just sitting there, taking it all in like they believed she could solve all their problems. How were they allowing her to be involved? He started to wonder if they'd all eaten eggs and stupid for breakfast, because something wasn't really wrong with the picture before him.

"What if he refuses?" Clay asked, concerned by a potential flaw and how she was suddenly an integral part of the plan.

Leni let a lazy smirk peel across her face. "I can be pretty persuasive."

"Don't get cocky!" He warned but with no malice in his voice. Leni softened the smile on her lips but confidence remained strong in her eyes. It looked like she knew exactly what she was getting into, and it angered Tig to see it.

"If you're comin' face to face with the cop, and he comes back to find this douche-bag dead - he's going to ID you! Then that's gonna tie right back to us anyhow!" Bobby told.

Leni gave a soft, knowing smile. "I got disguises for days!" She told him. "Just need to get my box of tricks!"

"It better be a fuckin' good disguise!" Tig growled, fearing that if she was caught she'd have absolutely no problem throwing SAMCRO under the bus to save herself. She cut him a look that silently said _'shut up' _and looked back to the other faces.

"So you get in there, finish him off..." Happy said. "Then what? Just walk out the front door?"

Leni thought for a moment. "That would be plan A..."

"And plan B?" Piney asked his voice gruff with concern. "You can't shoot your way out of a hospital!"

Leni smiled at him - not so long ago, that would have been the first option she jumped to, but she was much wiser now. "Guess we need to do some recon, work out the finer details..." She insisted. "...See if there's a bathroom window I can get out of, a fire escape or somethin'...Place to plant a change of clothes..."

"Me and Sack can do that!" Juice offered, knowing they were the only Sons the hospitalized Mayan hadn't laid eyes on and -with the help of some generic clothing and a hat or two- they could pass through the hospital without leaving any red flags up for the Feds to find later.

Leni gave him a grateful smile -wishing she had someone as enthusiastic in her own club- and passed her eyes back to the president. "That good with you, Clay?" She asked cautiously. Knowing it would be a huge leap of faith to ask the men to trust her to do this for them. If the shoe was on the other foot, she didn't know how she'd feel about one of the Sons doing the same for the Saints. Trust was a big issue when you lived between the lines.

He looked at her thoughtfully - his eyes intense and unreadable. He hated to drag her into the situation but he didn't exactly have a list of other options and she certainly seemed like their best hope of success. Time was ticking and not only did she appear to know just how to get the job done - she was clearly willing to do it. He couldn't tell if that amazed him, or scared the shit out of him. One of his oldest friends daughter -hardly more than a girl- sitting there at his table, quietly offering to kill a man for the good of _his_ club.

He wanted to say no to her, tell her there was no way in hell she was doing it. Not just because of his loyalty to her father and his private misgivings about how -_and__ if_- she should be leading her own club, but because it was in a _very_ gray area of club protocol.

He looked to the male faces round the table to seek their input. "Do we need to vote it?" He asked and although none of the men seemed pleased with the idea of putting the deed on Leni, it was clear no one had any other idea about how to get the job done. Bringing her into the shit-storm was a big gamble on many levels, but given the time restrictions and limitations on who they _could_ recruit for the job - she did seem like the best _and only_ option for a quick, efficient result.

The lack of instant protesting from his brothers sparked Tig's rage. "This is bullshit!" He barked, taking it upon himself to speak up, if the others wouldn't. "Are we really gonna let some outsider walk in here and take care of _our_ business?" He cast his eyes from Clay, to Jax and then Bobby. "This bitch can't even handle her own shit!" Clay cut Tig a warning look but it did nothing to calm him.

As a corridor of eyes dropped to the table in front of them, Leni sighed. _'Here we go again!'_ She thought to herself. Getting irritated by the seemingly constant stream of resistance in the form of Tig Trager.

"If you got any better ideas, Tiggy? Feel free to speak up...it's an open forum!" Clay snarled.

The Sergeant narrowed his eyes, hating that he didn't have any other suggestions to give. As much as he couldn't stand to admit it, her plan seemed solid, it was just _her_ executing it that he had a problem with. "Call Tacoma or Rouge River!" He told. "Get somebody down here-" Clay cut him off.

"Like who? Is there anyone up there you'd trust to do this for us?"

"I'd trust all of 'em a shitload more than I trust _no-sack _over there!" He stabbed a finger at Leni who just folded her arms on the table in front of her and watched - a hint of cruel amusement in her eyes.

"Every single man who wears our patch can be tied right back here..." Clay barked. "If the cop on the door gives an ID or there's a camera in the right place at the wrong time, we're all fucked!" He told, his eyes solid on Tig. "The cops might be too stupid to put it all together...but all it's gonna take is for the Mayan's to figure out who-took-what and who-killed-who, and suddenly we're in the middle of a Goddamn blood feud!" Tig swallowed down a growl, his eyebrows low and harsh with anger. He couldn't argue with Clay's reasoning and he hated it. "If anyone else has got a problem with this...out with it, now!" The president demanded.

"Don't spare my blushes boys!" Leni offered, giving an open palms up gesture as she relaxed back into the chair, to welcome their opinion.

"I don't like it!" Piney spoke up, not wanting to go against Clay's direction but he needed his voice to be heard. "You shouldn't be doin' things like this Leni...you got enough on your plate." He told her and she bit her tongue, not wanting to be combative over what she could or couldn't handle. "Can you help disguise someone else, a brother maybe?"

"Piney, there ain't a man in this world that can pull off a wig convincingly." She told matter-of-factly, slightly disheartened by the suggestion.

Happy spoke up. "The slightest thing spooks that cop on the door, and it's game-over! We won't get a second shot at it!" Piney knew the nomad was right and felt himself backing down.

"Anyone else?" Clay asked, answered by eyes falling to look at the table, mixed with a soft head shake or two.

"I ain't happy about it!" Chibs spoke up. Tig looked to him, nodding in agreement - relieved someone on his side of the table was seeing sense. "...This is SAMCRO's problem...not yours!" He said to Leni who didn't take offense to him disagreeing with her involvement.

"But that's where you're wrong..." She returned. "...It _is _my problem, because I need you guys to help keep my club from goin' under..." Chibs realized her point quickly. "...If you're all dressed in orange, I'm back to square one...It's in my best interests to keep you guys clear of any heat...if I have to do this to make that happen...then I'll do it!" In the corner of her eyes she could see the fire in Tig's glare.

A silence fell on the chapel again as the men looked inwardly for a way to protest her reasoning. Clay made sure to give his men a few moments to formulate any arguments before he spoke again. "Anyone else?" He waited, half hoping another voice would speak up and go against the tide and divide the room, but no one spoke up. "Good!" He decided. "We're gonna have to work together to pull this off." He looking to Tig as he spoke. The apparent declaration of an agreement was enough to rouse the bikers to nod and confirm their allegiance to the plan - all but Tig, who continued to glare angrily.

Wanting to break tension now things seemed decided, Clay spoke again. "Who knows...if you can pull this off, we might have to patch you over." He joked, cruel trying to irritate Tig - hoping to coax out the last of his aggression towards Leni before they were put to task. Tig's eyes went as big as saucers, glaring at Clay in shock that he'd even suggest such a thing.

"Oooh, don't tease me!" She mocked, relieved the atmosphere had shifted out from under the gloom. Getting a snide kick from the way Tig looked beyond pissed, which slightly amused the other Sons too. She shared a smile with Clay, silently ending the development phase.

"I want everythin' planned and ready by tonight, we fix this shit first thing tomorrow mornin'." He told. He knew everyone would sleep better once it was over but they couldn't rush into things without every detail being in place and checked through. "Juice? You take Sack and go scope out the hospital for security and exit routes. Snag a ID card if you can, just in case." Juice nodded and was up on his feet, headed for the door in a flash. "Bobby, Hap, Chibs...You go with Leni, get the cars and put the feelers out for some female..." He paused for a beat, thinking of the right word. "..._acting talent_." A wave of smiles swept round the table. "_Tig_? You go on with Leni to get whatever she needs."

"WHAT?" Tig barked, outraged further. "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? Why do I get stuck on bitch detail?"

"I was goin' to ask the same question!" Leni mumbled as she exchanged angry, hostile looks with him across the table.

"You two need to fight, fuck or get over it!" Clay told making the rest of the table smirk. Tig and Leni looked to Clay, her eyebrow cocked and Tig scowling.

"Maybe you can work your shit out if you spend some time alone...Just don't go gettin' horizontal on the clock!" Clay insisted teasingly.

"Bleguh!" Leni grimaced. "I'd rather be water-boarded!" The men laughed out loud but Tig didn't flinch, keeping his fierce look for a moment before it turned smug.

"Doll, five minutes horizontal with me...you wouldn't be able to ride for a week!" Tig smirked, his anger momentarily shifting to cockiness.

Leni gave a huff of laughter and a soft, dismissive shake of her head. "Dude... d'you realize that you ain't just barkin' up the wrong tree - you're in the wrong fuckin' forest?" A chorus of laughter and goading cheers erupted from the boys.

All eyes went to Tig for his reply but Leni had other ideas. "We good?" She asked the table - her eyes on Clay. The men looked back to her and nodded, trying not to let Tig see just how funny they thought the whole situation was. Clay gave her a nod of approval and she gracefully got up and swept out of the room. Leaving all eyes on Tig who was raging inside. _Jumped up little bitch needed to be taught a lesson.  
_

"Put this shit on a back burner, Tiggy!" Clay ordered, taking his Sergeants mind off revenge for a second. "Get the job done, keep an eye on her...you can kill each other _after_ we off this Mayan!"

"No promises!" Tig warned and got up to follow in Leni's footsteps. The room was silent for a moment before Jax spoke up, amusement still evident on his lips.

"You know that's a bad idea, _right_? Puttin' them together?"

Clay shook his head. "Let him suffer! He knows it's more than his life's worth to hurt her."

Jax blew out a lung full of cigarette. "It's not _her_ I'm worried about!"

•••••••••••••••••••

The early afternoon sun was hot in the sky, burning down on Charming and the concrete ground of the Teller-Morrow lot. Keen to get the ball rolling, Leni fastened her helmet in place and from the corner of her eye she could see Tig saddling for the ride to Sacramento. She could imagine him ranting to himself about how much he hated her, how much he wanted her gone, or plotting how to kill her and it made her smile.

The minute she'd laid eyes on him she knew he was an asshole and he wasn't doing anything to prove otherwise. That cocky and over-confident way he had about him. The dark edge that encapsulated him. The way he constantly tried to unnerve or belittle her - she'd seen all those factors before -a thousand times- but there was something different about the way all the bad-boy elements were wrapped up inside him.

What really got under her skin -that which she tried _not_ to acknowledge- was the slightest hint of softness and sensitivity that she occasionally caught in his icy blue eyes. It was crazy but sometimes -when he wasn't trying to kill her with just a look- she thought she saw something deeper, almost tender, in his eyes. Suggesting that maybe it was just his male pride that was putting up so much resistance. Fear of having to change his view of women if he saw one thrive in his male dominated world.

She would stub a cigarette out in her eye before admitting to it on a_ny_ level, but underneath all the animosity - she did find him intriguing. Attractive too. The wildman look he had going on, the danger and depth that poured off of him, ticked all the right boxes. She learned young that she was always drawn to the biggest jerk in a ten-mile radius, but she'd never risk even considering getting involved with someone like him. Someone who was so ingrained into their world and could potentially betray her on so many professional _and_ intimate levels. She had spent the longest time avoiding romantic involvement with men, having learned the hard way that her status and trust, was much like oil and water - mixed well for a while, but quickly separated.

Even if he quit the guard dog act and cut her some slack - she'd never mix business with pleasure. It was too risky to get tangled up with a man who was as many things as he.

Putting on her oval sunglasses, with hundreds of tiny silver skulls etched into the black plastic arms, she fired up her bikes engine and peeled out of the lot with Tig not far behind her and the black van -where Bobby, Chibs and Happy rode- trailing him.

Each one of them was acutely aware of what they were about to become a part of, but not one of them paid it much mind. They couldn't afford to! Thinking about the rights and wrongs was something to be reserved for solitary nights, when there wasn't enough booze, weed or women around to distract from the questions of morality. Until the job was done, emotions and doubts had to be locked firmly away in the overhead compartment where they couldn't fall out and smash everything to shit.

Traveling through Charming, the bikers closely obeyed the road laws but Leni and Tig were instantly locked in a silent struggle. Still soured by her involvement and yet another put-down, Tig's internal fire was quietly building to a dangerous heat.

Weaving in and out of town traffic, pretending not to care what the other was doing but never wanting to give an inch and allow for an overtake. Tig had a score to settle and Leni had a reputation to uphold. It was a dangerous mix.

As they reached the limits of Charming, they took a left, heading for the long, empty back roads. Knowing it was easier to pick up on a tail away from the congested highways. As soon as their tires hit on the open road -a ribbon of blacktop laid out in front of them, theirs for the taking- the battle was on.

Keen to get away, Leni sped forward into the Californian afternoon. Provoking Tig to give a little more throttle to catch up with her. He knew the road like the back of his hand and there was length enough for a drag race if that's what she wanted. They wouldn't hit traffic for a many miles and he was already practicing the smirk he'd be wearing when she caught up to him - victorious at the traffic lights a few miles outside of Sacramento's heart.

Giving his bike some more power he was on her in seconds, deliberately drawing up close to her, barely an inch between them before he sped ahead - goading her into racing him. Leni growled to herself - _'You want it Trager?'_ She asked him silently. _'You got it!' _With that she whipped the throttle and shot after him. He knew that her V-Rod had a speed advantage over his Dyna, and with her weighting less, she had the laws of physics on her side but he knew the road better - he'd take more risks on blind bends and tricky junctions.

In the truck, Bobby let out an exasperated sigh at the sight up ahead. "Jesus Christ! Are they racing?" He asked, already knowing the answer as the two bikes became little more than dots on the horizon.

"Looks that way!" Chibs nodded. Imagining the look on his brothers face as he fought to beat the young woman who was practically becoming a tattoo, she was that embedded into his skin.

The camber of the road dipped and rose as the bikes flew along at great speed. Leaving the safety of Charming behind and drawing in on the dangers of the big city. Leni kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, loving the way the wind whipped at her clothes and hair as she zipped through the bleak landscapes. She could feel Tig next to her - a few feet separating them side by side and merely inches in difference between who was in the lead.

Her bike begged to give it's all but she held it back, knowing it would be a marathon, not a sprint, and wanting to lead Tig into a false sense of security. His eyes kept glancing between the road and her - the way her legs straddled the bike made heat rise through him. Partnering with the thrill of the chase to make his jeans a little uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn't be getting turned on by racing the bitch -he was out there to settle a score- but he couldn't help it. Seeing he ride was sexy and the thrill of the chase was the most excitement he'd seen in weeks!

Together they blazed along the road, splitting lanes through the singular and small clusters of cars and trucks they passed. Under taking and over taking as they whizzed by - barely able to tell the color of the passing cages due to their speed. It was all a blur but their desire to win was solid and unwavering. Heart pounding a fast beat as the engines purred out the rhythm of their challenge. The partnering of their bikes and bodies carving up the road as they barreled along at near breakneck speed.

Even while maintaining such high speeds, Tig's keen eyes spotted a familiar landmarks amongst the blur of colors and they told him how much further the race had to run. The back roads to the city took longer than the highway but their high speed cut the time in half.

From experience he knew that as they drew closer to the city they would reach a four-way intersection - that was busy every hour of the day. It would be their finish line and he willed his bike to take hers as they flew along together. Rural scenery running past them like a continual mural of blurred, earthy colors. Their focal point their only clear view as they powered down on - mindful of the roads risks but never losing focus from the goal.

It seemed like only minutes before Tig could see the tail lights on the distant horizon, a trail of cars building traffic but Leni wasn't slowing down, if anything she seemed to be speeding up. She knew it was her final chance to show him the power she was riding.

Keeping her bike straight and pointed for Sacramento, she maxed the throttle and shot in front of him.

Unable to find time to think, Tig gave his bike more juice too and charged after her. She was playing chicken - he was sure. Get him to break off speed so she could take the lead. _Fuck that!_

The amount of vehicles around them began to thicken out as they reached signs of civilization again. Cars and trucks piling up, moving slowly but intently as they were channeled along into the towns that bordered the big city.

The road was narrowing, with congestion, but Leni didn't hold back - shooting through the middle of a bottleneck on approach to the junction. Barely a couple of inches between her bike and the cold, metal side of any given car or truck.

Tig was close behind her, pulling out all the skills he had from his years of riding to avoid the colorful cages that tried to hinder his win. The sudden shade and pressure of growing buildings at either side of the road and so much traffic made the race suddenly feel claustrophobic but it did nothing to calm their speed. Each with a point to prove and a lesson to teach the other.

Up ahead, the lights were changing causing the cars around them to slow to a stop but Leni was still holding her speed, and with a quick look to her right, she swung her bike between cars and into the clear opposite lane and powered forward. Her adrenaline and lust for danger was in the red. She no longer cared if Tig was chasing her. It was all about the rush as she powered on.

He was behind, riding the center line, sticking close -not wanting to lose- but now not hungry enough for the win. It was getting dangerous! His heart was pounding as he watched her bike shoot forward in the opposite lane, the light changing to red a split second before she darted over the stop line.

He grabbed hard on his break! Side-skidding to a stop merely inches from the white-line himself, as she flew across the intersection, missing the criss-crossing traffic by a whisper.

Tig's heart jumped into his throat, a curtained blur of passing traffic flooding in to block his view of her. Panicked, he readied his bike to take off as soon as the intersection cleared. His eyes alarmed and desperate as he scanned the waves of cars for a sign of her_. _

_'She's not hit...'_ He told himself_. '...They would stop if she was hit...she made it thought...she's not hit...'_ He had no time to feel hatred for the concern he felt. His mind focused on searching for a glimpse of her through the veil of vehicles.

Trying desperately to keep from bolting out into the flow of traffic himself, Tig locked his jaw and pleaded with his senses and thoughts to remain calm. Watching nervously as the stream trickled out and the last car passed, to again reveal the road ahead.

His eyes instantly found her, sitting on her idling bike, at the curb, a few feet the other side of the lights - smirking at him. Their eyes locked for only a second before she turned away, guiding her bike back into the traffic bound for the heart of Sacramento.

Tig felt the a fire catch in his belly. Not only was this bitch crazy but she was crushing his last nerve like a cigarette under her boot!

Just when he couldn't imagine a way for her to become more obnoxious, she managed to surprise him. She was reckless and fueled by dark desires - how could she be trusted to work for the club? Hell, he wouldn't trust her as far as he could throw her. Bitch was going to cause a world of problems for everyone around him - _he was sure of it._

He sat there on his bike glaring at where she'd been for several minutes, as cars blew past him. Honking and cursing him out for blocking a piece of the lane, but he'd lost track of everything around him. His mind racing like his engine had been until the familiar rumbling of the black van pulled up alongside him.

"Think she won that one!" Chibs mocked down at him from the open window. Not having seen the race but guessing she'd handed Tig his ass, just by the way he was sitting there staring - licking his wounds.

"Shut up!" Tig growled and instantly gave his bike some throttle, speedily passing through the intersection heading after Leni into the city. She may have won this battle but the war was _far _from over.

**A/N:** Again, sorry it took so long to get this on here. Promise the next part will be quicker, if you want it - please me know! Comments, criticisms, concerns and questions are always welcome too!


	7. Chapter 6: Rust and Lust

**A/N: **My continual thanks to everyone who favourite'd/followed on the last chapter and extra special thanks to those people who take time out to leave reviews. They are the fuel that keeps me posting!

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

**Getting Nowhere by Magnetic Man feat John Legend **

**Black Swan by Thom Yorke **

You cannot kickstart a dead horse  
You just crush yourself and walk away  
I don't care what the future holds  
Cause I'm writin' out today  
With your fingers you can touch me

I'm your black swan, black swan  
But I made it to the top, made it to the top  
This is fucked up, fucked up.

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Six || **Rust and Lust**

Successfully navigating through the heavy city traffic and out onto the roads that lead to an industrial area near Washington Lake; Leni slowed her bike on approach to a two acre lot that was surrounded by razor-wire topped, chain-link fencing. It was still business hours for the salvage yard and so the gate was wide open, allowing her and Tig to glide straight in.

They steered their bikes over to one of the only clear areas of ground left on the lot - a patch of cracked cement that acted as a car park and hand-over area for customers. The whole place was filled to bursting with spare parts, scrap metals as well as all models and makes of vehicles in various states of decay. Towers of steel stacked at various different heights as far as the eye could see.

Leni turned off her engine and freed the kickstand before removing her helmet. Drawing in a calming breath as deep as she could - her system still jittery from the buzz of the chase. She tried not to look over at Tig as he backed in besides her, knowing he would still be pissed and looking for any excuse to fight.

On the outside she remained stoic but inside she was secretly smiling. She knew she was playing with fire but she couldn't stop herself. There was something about him that was making her want to challenge and provoke him. The slither of conscience she still had left, told her she should have shown more restraint on the ride in, but the temptation was too much. She was beginning to find it impossible to resist opportunities to fuck with him.

As he removed his sunglasses and helmet, Tig felt the anger inside him simmering unusually. Sure he was bitter and enraged by the shit she'd pulled out on the roads into the city but something was laying down on top of all those powerful emotions, keeping them calm and pinned down. He didn't know why - almost every part of him demanded that he blow up on her. Ask her what the hell she was playing at. Throw her against a wall and beat some sense into her, but for some reason he couldn't find the spark to light the fuel inside him. Maybe the faded adrenaline was making him weary. Maybe he didn't really care enough to react. Maybe he'd been thrown too far beyond angry to find any passion within him to protest - or _perhaps _he was just relieved she was safe and unharmed.

Confused by the plateau in his emotions, Tig relaxed back into the seat of his bike and watched Leni climb off her own ride as a pack of six dogs came running out of the forest of scrap metal. A few Pitbulls, a German Shepherd and two Rottweilers; barking and yowling greetings as their racing paws kicked up clouds of dust from the dry ground.

A strange haze fell on him as he watched Leni's face light up at the sight of the dogs. Reminded of how she'd lost her own pet just a few days ago. He was a dog person himself -no doubt about that- he'd take a dog over a person any day of the week, but he refused to acknowledge that it gave the two of them some common ground. He could care less if she ran a dogs home in her spare time, she was a crazy bitch that needed to get out of his life before one of them did something stupid.

Welcoming the friendly distraction, Leni crouched down and opened up her arms to the mob of wet noses and wagging tails. Feeling Tig's eyes all over her as she stroked each dog, trying hard to fight the urge to turn and glare at him as they licked and nuzzled her. He frowned to himself behind his sunglasses as he watched, confused by a twinge inside that felt like something like jealousy.

_'It's a pack of dogs! Jesus Christ man! You're losin' it!'_ He groaned to himself. Turning his head away to watch the gate for the others in the van, while Leni got herself free of the dogs. Wiping her hands on her jeans and urging them to move on, she turned and headed over to the site office. A base of operations for the salvage yard, which was little more than two converted shipping containers welded together, with another on top connected up by a rudimentary iron staircase.

A couple of the dogs followed after her -hoping for food- while the others went over to check Tig out. Sniffing his bike, boots and his legs. Cautiously, he put out his hand for each dog to smell before moving in to stroke them. They seemed friendly enough -by the light of day- but after having his ass chomped on by a Doberman not so long ago - he wouldn't like to consider what they were capable of if provoked after dark.

After a few minutes, the black van with Bobby, Chibs and Happy inside pulled up onto the lot and after briefly checking out the new arrivals, most of the dogs filtered off back to their favorite napping places. Relieved to be out in the fresh air after being caged in by city traffic - the three men stretched and wandered over to Tig. All with knowing looks in their eyes - just waiting for a chance to mock him about losing a race to a woman but something about the way he was holding himself told them to keep quiet about it.

Together they watched the office door for a few moments before Leni stepped back into the diffused sunshine, followed by the biggest guy any of the bikers had seen before. A hulk of well over six five, in a white muscle shirt and black jeans. Tattooed skin that had seen too much sun stretched over thick, taut muscles.

Named Bullion, or Bull to his friends - nicknamed such because it looked as if King Midas had bitch slapped him! Showered in gold with rings, bracelets, earrings and a rope chain around his neck that would have been more at home attached to a cruise ship. There was as much gold inside his mouth as there was on his body - having replaced all his front teeth with the precious metal and a couple of diamonds. Giving the menacing appearance of a shark, when in fact Bull was a relatively gentle and clumsy soul.

Tig watched as the guy handed her a clipboard and four license plates before pointing off into the salvage yard, giving instructions that he wasn't close enough to hear. Leni thanked him and took off in the direction he had pointed out as the large man headed over to greet the bikers.

"Bull!" Happy cheered. "How's it going man?"

"Good brother!" He replied, gripping hands with Happy and swallowing him up into a hug.

Tig watched as the two men chatted - he knew Happy got around as a nomad but he was always surprised by how many people he knew. What surprised him more was how yet another man of daunting stature seemed to be under Leni's command. After her little display with the chick at the clubhouse a few nights before, he knew it was unlikely she used her pussy to gain control, but he was unable to imagine what else she had that kept her in the top seat. Only black magic would convince him she was worthy of to hold a rank over men like him.

A ringing phone pulled Bull back into the office, leaving the Sons alone again. "That's a huge fuckin' guy!" Bobby said watching as Bull wedged himself back through the office door.

Happy laughed. "You think he's big? You should see his brother, Titch!" Chibs and Bobby looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Both pretty certain that the salvage yard was one of the Saints investments that nobody would try knocking over.

The four bikers followed the path Leni had taken into the city of rusted metal. A few dogs still tailing them to keep watch as the men wandered through their domain. They found her quickly; standing in the middle of an aisle of cars, chatting to who they safely assumed was Titch. A man who was around the same in height but a good couple of inches bigger in width than his brother. Covered in ink and free of gold, yet no less menacing looking.

The odd looking pair were talking about a black BMW that was parked near them. The car was in good shape, early two-thousands model with tinted windows and beige interior. "Inconspicuous enough for you?" Titch asked with a deep yet gentle voice that defied his large stature.

"It's a bit... _gangster_...but it'll do!" Leni nodded.

"Well, it runs good and aside from a few questionable stains on the interior, it won't raise any eyebrows." Titch assured her. She didn't dare think what the stains inside the car might be from, in their line of work she imagined it couldn't be anything as simple as a milkshake. "I got an old Ford pick-up running, if that'll do ya?"

"That'd be great." She agreed and Titch took off back into the maze of car carcases to retrieve it.

Tig and the Sons watched as she walked over to the car and got in. She fired up the engine and looked over the lights on the panel, which all seemed fine. She flicked on the wipers checking they worked -in the unlikely event of rain- then she turned on the lights. Sticking her head out the window and calling over to the men. "The lights okay?"

Chibs jumped into action, catching a disapproving look from Tig as he passed by him. The Scotsman squinted against the daylight to check the bulbs were alight in the front before moving around to the back of the car to see if the rear lights and break warnings were functioning too.

"Looks good sweetheart!" Chibs assured and Leni killed the engine. Climbing out and tossing the keys to him as she set to switching out the license plates - unable to be sure that the originals weren't tied to some heinous crime.

The men stood around watching her work for a moment, surprised by how she had everything covered - it was obviously she'd done it all before. Curious about her efficiency, Tig's eyes were on her like his life depended on it. Watching as she crouched in front of the car. Her top riding up and her jeans slipping down to show the slightest glimpse of purple panties beneath them. Tig felt a tingling in his crotch, _almost_ strong enough to break clean through the odd mix of muted emotions inside him.

It wasn't long before Titch returned, wedged snugly behind the wheel of an early nineties Ford pick-up truck; a formerly red paintjob sun bleached so badly it almost looked pink. Eyebrows raised as the bikers looked to one another, figuring Bobby was the unlucky one who had to ride in it to Concord.

"We're swappin' keys!" Bobby told Chibs. "I'm not drivin' that - it's friggin' pink!"

"Too late brother!" Chibs laughed and walked over to the Beamer, checking Leni was done before he climbed behind the wheel and fired it up. Bobby looked to Happy to suggest a swap but the nomad answered only with a stern look, tightening the grip he had on the van keys. Silently telling his brother that there was no way he was switching.

"I'll be in the truck!" Happy announced, taking off for the black van before Bobby could get any more ideas.

Clouds rolled over the sun, casting light shade all over the lot as Tig and Bobby stood watching Leni chatting to Titch. Catching up on the goings on in the city, while they checked the cars vitals to be sure it would get them to Concord and back. Once she was sure everything in the car was healthy, she quickly switched out the license plates for the carefully acquired substitutes.

"You all right?" Bobby asked, noticing Tig was oddly quiet and looked distracted.

"No..._I'm not_!" Tig dismissed, still not truly feeling his aggression towards her but not willing to let the opportunity to complain pass him by. "Where'd you land on this thing..._with her_..."

Bobby shrugged lightly. "I dunno man...I don't think it's right bringin' her into our shit...but she wants to help..." Tig didn't reply he just continued to stare at her - trying to remember the last time he'd seen a woman working a screw driver. Bobby knew that Tig's opinion about Leni had already been cemented into his mind - and he wasn't going to try to change it, but he knew life would be a lot easier on Tig if he let his animosity go. "...None of us know her well enough to be judgin' her one way or another, Tiggy..." Refusing to buy Bobby's words, the wild haired biker gave a dismissive huff. Biting down on his tongue, to stop the unsavory words that danced there from getting out. "You two might actually get along if you get off her back."

"What makes you think I wanna _'get along'_ with her?"

"Oh come on!" Bobby laughed. "It's written all over your face. You wanna bang her into the middle of next week!" Tig's jaw tightened. "You know, you'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar..."

Tig gave a grunt; his bravado diluting the uncertainty Bobby's suggestion had flooded him with. "Nah! Ain't nothin' like a hate fuck!"

"Brother, I'm pretty sure she came out of her momma carryin' a flick knife and a swiggin' from a bottle of Jack...You keep pushin' her buttons, and she'll end up fuckin' you in a way you ain't gonna appreciate too much."

Tig thought about that for a moment. He knew there was a lot of truth to what his brother said, but he wasn't going to over think it. He liked screwing with her and unless she pulled a gun on him, he wasn't planning on quitting.

They stood quietly for a moment, watching Leni as she worked on the old car. Making sure nothing would fail when they needed it the most.

"...I'm sick of followin' her ass around already!" Tig said out loud, feeling like he needed to bolster his reputation a little. He didn't like idea of Bobby thinking he was too busy chasing her skirt to focus on club business.

Bobby smiled to himself. He knew Tig wasn't sick of it. Sure - he didn't like it! But there would be hell to pay if Clay thought about putting anyone else on her tail. "It's a pretty nice ass to be stuck behind though, isn't it?" He teased as Tig tilted his head to the side a little. Watching as Leni bent under the hood to check the cars heart. Giving anyone behind her a good look at what her momma gave her.

Tig felt his palm tickle, with an urge to grab or spank her pert backside, a lust riddled smirk peeling across his face. "Yeah...it is!"

•••••••••••••••••••

"Take 'em to this address." Leni said, handing over a piece of paper to Chibs. "I got a guy who'll let us stash them in his warehouse until tomorrow."

"Great!" Chibs agreed - surprised she had it all figured out. She tossed some keys to Bobby and he begrudgingly followed the Scotsman, headed straight for the black and borderline-pink cars the salvage yard had provided them.

Leni gave a faint inward sigh as she watched the Sons load up - knowing she was stuck with Tig again and they would truly be alone this time. Cautious of him -_and_ the pondering look he had about him since reaching the yard- she didn't say a word. She just walked over to her bike and put on her helmet and sunglasses back on.

Tig growled softly to himself, still feeling slight resentment about what was happening and how he had to follow her around. Wondering about what shit she'd try to pull on the ride to her house, and yet the thought of finally being alone with her overpowered any strong negatives he felt. He half hoped that once they were back at her house, she'd be more inclined to let him have his way with her. He could tell she needed to loosen up and he knew he had the perfect remedy for that.

The two bikers set off; riding back through and out of the city. Taking highway ninety nine north to Tacenda where Leni could pick up what she needed. Knowing better than to race with her again, Tig kept a steady pace and begrudgingly allowed her to lead the way. Obeying all the road laws as they rode together through the streets Leni knew so well, but were alien to Tig.

She could still feel his eyes burning into her every now and again. She couldn't understand how one man could irritate her so much. She'd spent her whole life surrounded by guys who thought they were the shit. Men who loved to belittle her confidence or push-up on her - believing a woman's only place was in the bedroom or the kitchen. There was a time when she solved problems like him by throwing punches, but she'd learned the better way was to turn the other cheek. However, with Tig it seemed no matter _where_ she turned - he was _still_ on her back. Those blue eyes digging under her skin, invading her. Making her feel things she had no interest in feeling.

She didn't get involved with men who wore kuttes, particularly if there was a business deal involved. The last thing she needed was Tig rating her bedroom skills for all the Sons, Saints and half the bikers on the west coast. She knew that was a sure-fire way to lose the respect of those around her and she'd be damned if Tig Trager would be the one who made her lose her panties _and_ her good name.

In light traffic, it was less than ten minutes before two bikes rolled up outside the small one story house that Leni had once loved. Now when she looked, it didn't seem as bright as it had before. A black cloud seemed to be hanging over it. A smudge on the good memories she had there. Her home had been invaded and she knew it would never feel right to be there again.

"You can wait here..." She instructed as she got off her bike but Tig shook his head. The ride had allowed for another shift of emotions inside him, the urge to fuck with her was slowly surfacing again. Reminding him that they still had a score to settle.

"Nah! Clay said I should watch you...so that's what I'm gonna do!"

Leni swallowed a heavy sigh. She didn't like the thought of being alone with him - trapped inside where she didn't feel safe. She didn't trust him - _or herself_. Either her fists or her legs were going to betray her, in one way or another.

Quick as she could -without seeming desperate- Leni hurried away from Tig and let herself into her house. A thought to shut the door on him entered her mind, but she guessed he'd either pick the lock or kick it in - just to spite her. So she left it open and went straight through the house to her bedroom. Locking_ that _door behind her, but not out of fear of Tig - through lack of trust in herself. Troubled by the unwelcome urges that were blossoming inside her whenever he was near.

Casually, Tig wandered inside and looked around for any changes. Unsurprisingly, it all looked the same as it had when they left a couple of days earlier. Taking advantage of being alone in her sanctuary, he began snoop around - looking for clues to her life. He moved over to the shelves, glancing at the titles of her books that remained untouched by the intruders.

The chauvinistic part of him rolled its eyes when he looked over some of the Harley manuals. He couldn't picture her getting oil under her manicured nails while fixing her bike. _Nope!_ He couldn't picture that at all!

He ran his finger over the spines of a few novels that were still sitting in place. Displaying familiar author names that Tig knew of, but he had never been a reader himself - choosing to spend his free time drinking good booze and chasing easy pussy. Works of Bradbury, Poe, Faulkner, Huxley, Crowley, Gorey, Bukowski, Artaud, and Palahniuck looked back at him but he couldn't picture her as much of a reader either - but then what did he know? The bitch had shown up out of the blue; he didn't know a thing about her and he told himself he didn't want to either.

Dismissing her literary choices, he moved on. Looking at the snow globe with a cluster of skulls inside. He picked it up and shook it. Sending purple glitter and miniature black bats sweeping around in a blizzard. A faint smile flickered in his eyes, thinking it was kind of cool - if a little girly. Next, his eyes found a frame in which sat page of printed text. It was a poem - Invictus by William Ernest Henley.

As he read the words he felt he felt his soul stir. That was some deep shit - like warriors prayer. At the bottom of the poem were handwritten words. Simply saying "_I am proud of you today and always! Dad x_" Tig frowned deeply, hating the swell of emotions inside him. That's why he didn't read shit - it made him think too deep and feel too strong.

He put the poem back down and moved away from the bookshelf. Wandering over to the telephone table besides the overturned couch, on which another photo frame sat. Inside was a shot of her with her hugging her dad - she looked tiny against his infamous imposing size. She looked young, but already she was in a kutte. Prospect badge over her left breast, big stupid grin on her face. He was surprised to see evidence of her climbing the MC promotional ladder -he had assumed she walked straight in as VP- but he told himself she had it easy anyway. No way would Daddy's-Little-Princess be made to do the things a regular -_male-_ prospect would have to do.

Realizing he was bitching under his breath, he replaced the photo frame and took a seat in the only undamaged chair. Looking to his right he could see a rack of CD's and more pictures. His curious eyes were drawn in and he leaned closer to see - it was a shot of her sitting on her bike with two men flanking her at both sides - he knew both of them. The older dark-haired man was Finn and the younger one, -slightly shorter than Finn but still a little taller than Leni- was Johnny. Jaw length, dirty blond hair and several days worth of stubble distracting from narrow blue eyes.

Tig was more familiar with Finn but he'd crossed Johnny's path a time or two before. He didn't know much about him except a feeling that said he was a bad egg. Too full of himself, with devious eyes that seemed as cunning as they did callous.

Seeing nothing that really interested him in the pictures, he cast his eyes to the music collection. His brow furrowing as he took in some of the titles - she had an remarkable collection. Classic rock bands and artists he knew well - Grand Funk Railroad, Bad Company, Hendrix, Springsteen, Zeppelin, Van Halen, Creedence Clearwater Revival, looked back at him. He shrugged, resentfully impressed by her tastes - maybe she did have _one_ redeeming quality.

He carried on reading and saw albums by more modern rock bands, Alice in Chains, Rammstein, Black Label Society, Rage Against The Machine, - her collection still looked pretty good to him. Amongst the rock albums were hits from a very random mix of classic artists like Solomon Burke, Kenny Rodgers, Dusty Springfield, Little Richard, Prince, Nina Simone, Frank Sinatra, Bob Marley and the like. He wouldn't have bought most of them himself but he wouldn't rush to switch them off either.

He saw a few random compilation albums - pop music from the sixties through to the nineties. A few dance mixes which was noise he didn't care for at all. There was even some rap artists mixed in, but that didn't surprise him given how broad her tastes seemed to be. He began to imagine her home alone, dancing around in her underwear, when his eyes fell on something that made his eyebrows raise painfully high. Mozart, Shebert, Greig, Satie. _Fucking Classical music?_ _What?_ He didn't know anyone who listened to that shit! This bitches collection was weirder than she was.

Just then the door popped open and Leni walked out carrying a black duffle bag and a silver Halliburton case. She glanced over to Tig and took a deep breath in. She didn't dare imagine what he was getting into while she'd been busy.

She walked straight into the kitchen and put her bags up on the table. Making a point of wiggling her ankle, feeling her knife rubbing comfortingly between her skin and the leather of her boot. She told herself she was safe but struggled to really believe it as she set about gathering a few things she'd required from the kitchen cabinets.

"You listen to classical music?" Tig asked before he could stop himself. Curiosity suddenly getting the better of him.

Leni looked over her shoulder at him, his eyes were on her ass again. "Just because I'm in a motorcycle club and have a criminal record, doesn't mean I can't be _slightly_ cultured!" She defended. "I have plenty of obligatory hard rock and metal to balance it out."

Tig tried not to smile. He hated how he could _almost _like her - _almost _but not quiet. "I noticed." He said, getting up from the couch - unknowingly casting out a shiver that ran up Leni's spine.

Like he was some kind of wild animal, she felt uneasy with him lurking around behind her. He was unpredictable, dangerous and sexy. _No!_ He wasn't sexy! She wasn't going to give him that! There were a million words that fit him better before that one - Grating, unhinged, chauvinistic, combative, arrogant, and yet all of those words came full circle to add to his sex appeal.

Uncomfortable with him moving around behind her, she worked faster to find all she needed. Her hands moving around in the cupboard without direction as she tuned her ears in to the sound his clothes made as he moved around. The rustle of denim, the soft squeak and scrunch of well-worn leather and the clink of metal gave her an idea where he was -without looking- and if she wasn't mistaken, he was drawing in on her.

Refusing to let him see she was unnerved, she tried to carry on doing what she was doing. Hands blindly moving bottles and packets back and forth. Trying to look busy and uninterested, all while acutely aware of his presence in the kitchen with her.

She couldn't concentrate on what she was doing. Her hands stopped moving and her head turned slightly. Seeing him in the corner of her eye as he walked around, running a finger lazily over the counter-top as he approached her.

"Look at us..._all alone_." He purred. His intention to push her buttons - not seduce her. He had been eager to get her alone -to test her- but the whisper of a conscience that he had left, told him it was neither the time _nor_ the place to push her to extremes. A small part of him feared being in her domain. Knowing she could too easily slit his throat and bury him in somewhere close-by without anyone ever finding his body. His chance to_ really_ test her would come in Charming, where she had nowhere to run.

"I might be alone with you, but I'm not vulnerable...so don't get any ideas." She warned.

Tig smiled, coming to lean against the counter besides her. "I think you're more vulnerable than you like to believe."

Leni grabbed the bottle she'd been looking for in an instant and slammed the cupboard door shut. "The only time I'm helpless, is when my nails are dryin'..." She told him, looking him in the eye boldly. "...And even then I could still kick you in the balls!"

Tig laughed out loud - more in humor than cruelty. He liked fucking with her and if he was man enough to admit it to himself, he loved the way she came back at him with a smart mouth every time. "Doll, I would_ let_ you kick me in the balls if you promised to kiss 'em better."

She cocked her head to the side, trying to ignore the heat suddenly building around her lower abdomen. God, he looked good. Standing there all brash and dark - but she wasn't giving in. "I think I'd prefer to shit in my hand - then clap." She retorted causing Tig to give a snort of laughter again.

"I knew you were freaky." He teased lowering the tone with a leering smile on his face.

Leni assumed that he'd expect her to screw up her face in disgust, so instead she remained tolerant. "You have no idea..." She told him, their eyes locked. Her voice and eyes low and alluring for a moment. Giving Tig the tiniest hint of hope before she changed her expression to scornful. "...And you never will!" She told flatly, before stuffing a couple of bottles into her bag and walking back into the living room. Tig smiled to himself, he could tell he was getting under her skin - and he loved it.

Trying not to think about him and the desire she saw in his eyes - Leni dug around in a sideboard looking for a page of instructions she knew she'd stuffed in there at some point. She felt Tig move into the living room again and she quietly sighed, assuming he was there to start round two. When -to her surprise- he asked out.

"What was her name?"

Leni looked over to him, seeing that he was now staring at the bloodstain on the carpet. She swallowed hard, a chill of sadness blasting through her. "Mallory." She told, not really wanting to get into it with him but suddenly his whole demeanor had changed. _He was so weird!_ One minute he wanted to kill her, then he was practically trying to hump her leg - the next he seemed dejected, almost mournful.

"It's a sick mother fucker who'd hurt a dog." Tig mused.

"Yeah." She nodded, surprised they actually agreed on something. Before she could bite her tongue her mouth was running away with her. "I named her after the chick from Natural Born Killers..." Tig turned his head to look at her. He'd seen that film. A fucked up Bonnie and Clyde story full of violence and corruption. "...She was crazy... and pretty mean..." Leni told him, again she couldn't stop her mouth. "So I bet she took a good chunk out of whoever did it." Her only consolation was knowing her dog would have gone out fighting. Refusing to dwell on it, she pushed down memories of the animal she'd loved like a child and concentrated again on what she'd been doing.

Tig hated that he felt sadness for this gash all of a sudden - _but he did_. Maybe it was more about the death of a dog than _who's dog it was_ - he didn't know, but he wasn't going to let her get the better of him. He wasn't interested in giving a shit about her - or her fucking dog. He didn't like what she was _or_ her involvement with his club. Even if he did want to fuck her - he wasn't going to sympathize and make nice with the bitch.

"You done?" He asked sharply, jolting Leni with his sudden change.

"Yeah!" She shot back. Watching as he walked straight out of the front door into the daylight. She sighed, part in relief, part in exasperation. _God, he was tiring!_

Outside in the warm sun, Tig sat on his bike trying hard to silence the voices in his head and the swirling feelings in his stomach. _'This fucking gash!' _He grumbled to himself._ 'Some kind of witch! _' She had to be, no other woman he'd ever met caused him to go through such a spectrum of emotions. He'd loved women, he'd hated women. He'd wanted to fuck women - wanted to kill them too. All those things he'd felt before individually, he'd never experienced them all together _and then some_. Sure she was different to what he was used to seeing in a woman. An anomaly in his world, where women kept quiet and did as they were told. Yet he couldn't believe that alone was enough to get him so twisted up in knots.

His mind was cast in so many different directions. One minute he wanted to fuck her, the next he wanted to start throwing punches at her. Then he wanted to talk and get to know her, then hold her - comfort her, kiss her. Tell her he'd protect her...

He shook those kind of thoughts straight out of his head! Gluing them down deep where her hoped they couldn't get free again. She was trouble and he wanted _no_ attachment to her! Not now - _not ever!_

**A/N:** So in the next chapter, an interesting "thing" happens between Tig and Leni. Don't want to give too much away but let me just say, I named this Wicked Games for a reason haha!

Please let me know what you think, it keeps me posting and inspired to work hard for you guys!

Oh...and if you've never read Invictus - go google it. It's an amazing poem!


	8. Chapter 7: Four Minutes In Heaven

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in the updating, I meant to post this last week but due to a number of real life setbacks, it didn't happen, but here it is - better late than never! Once again, thanks to everyone for favorites/follows and especially those who take a minute to leave reviews. It's really great to hear what you readers think. I'm really glad you like what I'm doing and I hope to not screw it up!

This chapter is most definitely _the calm before the storm_ and a taste of the "games" to come between Tig and Leni (think you'll either love her or hate her by the end of it) I took a little bit of creative license with one character in the scene towards the end of the chapter, but that's what fan-fic is all about and knowing all too well what foolery guys get up to when drunk/challenged - I don't think the idea is actually all that "out of character". So, I hope you enjoy the read; please review/PM with your thoughts.

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Katia, who has been a great source of support to me in many things over the past few years. Since reading this story she has developed an uncanny understanding of what I am trying to do and where I am taking the story and the characters. This chapter was one that caused me a lot of doubt and concern but her encouragement, advice and insight helped me to improve it and strengthen up the areas I felt were lacking. Thanks Katia, for being a wonderful friend and a fantastic beta reader!

_As always, I own nothing in the SOA world or the music; I just own my OC's and the plot/ideas. _

**•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•**

**So Hott by Kid Rock**

**Baby by Justin Bieber **

_Because you know you're so hot, __I want to get you alone  
So hot, I wanna get you stoned  
So hot, I don't want to be your friend  
I want to fuck you like I'm never gonna see you again_

_***Mature scenes and themes***__** appear in this chapter. I don't write for children! So, if you're not old enough to vote; click the X in the top right corner and get gone!**_

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Seven || **Four Minutes In Heaven**

It was almost dark by the time everyone was safely back at the clubhouse. Happy, Bobby and Chibs had successfully stashed the cars the salvage yard provided in a lock-up near the target hospital in Concord, before heading back to Charming. And Leni -_with__ no thanks to __Tig_- was now fully equipped to put the final phase of the plan into action.

With so much in the balance, the mood in the clubhouse was unusually sombre. A large part of the MC sat around a couple of tables, eating food that Gemma had bought over. Since Leni's arrival, she had taken it upon herself to make sure the young woman ate well. Concerned that she would only end up eating pizza and bar snacks if the men had anything to do with it.

From past experience Gemma knew if she only bought enough food for one, then the men would either snag it or make the lucky recipients life a misery. So, she cooked for everyone - much to the delight of the boys, who rarely ate a decent meal that wasn't made by the Queen's hands.

It was no surprise to anyone that Leni chose to stay in the apartment. She was facing a dark challenge and a huge risk in the coming day and clearly didn't feel like socializing - or facing off against Tig again. Gemma spent some time with her; maternal concern being the guiding force but Clay's instruction to find out where Leni's head was at with their Mayan problem was ringing loudly in her ears. As expected, the young woman didn't give much away and respectfully Gemma didn't push. Sensing that if there was a problem, Leni wouldn't have an issue with raising her voice about it.

Once all the food was gone, things in the clubhouse formed slightly more familiar scenes. It didn't feel right to get rowdy with so much in the balance for the club. With a distinct lack of music, booze and positive atmosphere, all the hang-around's and croweaters had drifted away. So, in a bid to pass the time and take their minds off the events of the coming day, the Sons set up a game of poker. Knowing that a little booze, a few joints and some playful competition would be enough to distract from the threat hanging over them and the risks surrounding the solution they'd been offered.

After multiple shots of whiskey, several bottles of beer, four games of Texas Hold 'Em _and_ losing nearly a hundred bucks; Tig's mind was as far away from Leni as it was likely to get. Until something caught his eye and he looked up to see her walking down the corridor towards them.

Ipod in one hand, plugged into her ears. Dressed in a pair of black crop leggings, finishing just over her knees. Fabric so thin and so close to her skin she may as well have been naked. On top, she wore a tight-fitting, faded black tank top with a Lynyrd Skynyrd logo plastered across her breasts. Cut two inches shy of meeting the waist band of her leggings. Her hair was tied up loosely and she was barefoot; simply planning on grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen and then trying to get some sleep. However, Juice had other ideas.

"Leni! You play?" He called to her, just before she reached the kitchen door. She stopped in her tracks and looked over to the table warily. Juice, Half-Sack, Chibs, Bobby, Happy and of course Tig were all sitting around a table looking at her curiously.

"Nah. I suck at poker." She said with a shy smile, making Tig swallow the urge to make a smutty wisecrack. "Always ends up like Casino Royale when I play." She joked.

"Tell me about it!" Sighed Bobby, feeling the lightness of his pockets.

"We'll go easy on you!" Half-Sack smiled, hoping to involve her. It didn't seem right to him that she kept hiding out in the apartment. He knew she had a lot on her plate and was surrounded by people who were little more than strangers but he wanted to include her. He knew she likely did all the same things the Sons did; drinking, gambling, smoking pot - it was a way of life. He didn't see why she should miss out because she was so far from home.

She felt a smile inside; he was way too nice to be involved in their kind of life. "Tell you what...You guys know how to play Shithead?" The minute the words fell out of her mouth she knew it was a mistake.

"What?" Juice frowned. "There's a game, called Shithead?"

Leni looked at the faces staring at her and knew there was no walking away now. _'Me and my big mouth!'_ she growled to herself. Cautiously, she nodded leaning to rest one shoulder against the wall as if to anchor herself. Tig felt himself swelling at his core, the way she stood there -so seemingly relaxed- sent his mind into overdrive. A vision of her in the doorway of his bedroom looking just like that rushed to his mind. The way she might walk over to him, stripping off her clothes before climbing on top of him. Running her hands all over his chest, through his hair, kissing him as she went.

"Yeah...but it's not about money..." She announced, snapping Tig's mind back to reality as she cut him a warning glance. Daring him to start with his hostile bullshit again. "...it's about makin' the other person look like...a _shithead_!"

"Oh man! I think I played this once in Iraq! It's a great game!" Half-Sack put in.

"Rack 'em up!" Chibs insisted on the prospects testimonial. Pulling out a seat beside him and gesturing for Leni to sit down. "Prospect? More drinks!" He ordered and Half-Sack got up and skulked over to the bar.

Leni wasn't sure what she was getting herself into but with the threat of the coming day, she knew sleeping would be next to impossible. _'Fuck it!'_ She thought to herself. _'A couple of games won't hurt!'_

Tig watched, fixated on the way her hips swayed as she came over. Her slim, slinky body taking its place amongst the rough action. He watched closely as she folded one leg underneath her butt and sat down. Taking the pack of cards Juice handed over to her and another one from the table. She shuffled them together for a few moments, waiting until Half-Sack had completed his duties and was sitting back at the table again.

"Okay..._so_...it's pretty simple." She assured as she began to deal, fighting herself not to make a snide wisecrack at Tig's expense. "The aim of the game is to get rid of all your cards as soon as possible. The last person left holding is the shithead and has to do a forfeit!"

"I like the sound of this!" Happy said with as much excitement as his cool demeanor would allow.

"It doesn't have to be anything outrageous...It can be something innocent like trying to say the alphabet backward...or somethin' wild like streakin'!" She informed, watching energized smiles peel over the men's faces as they watched her give out the cards. Quickly placing the cards in front of each of them - _and hersel_f; three face down, three on top of those -but facing up- before dealing five cards for each person to have in their hand and placing what remained in the center of the table.

As she dealt, Tig noticed another tattoo on the inside of her upper right arm. A long line of some weird far eastern looking writing in black ink; characters that almost looked recognizable but were impossible to read. He dismissed it straight away, guessing there was some stupid meaning behind it. Damn near every woman he'd been with since the mid nineties had some kind of Kanji or another foreign language tattoo. He didn't need to ask to know that they were usually supposed to mean 'strength' or 'love' or some other girly bullshit, but probably actually meant _'cocksucker' _or _'lover of pink turtles'_ due to some tiny error in translation or accuracy during inking.

Leni glanced around to make sure all the cards were dealt correctly and that she had the men's attention, before she began with the rules. "When you put down, you pick up, until all the cards are gone..." She pointed to the small pile of cards left in the middle. "You always gotta match or better the card that was put down before you... and if you have more than one of a kind, you can put them all down together...there are five special cards..." She announced, looking around the faces again -avoiding Tig's- to make sure everyone was following. "...No matter which card is down, if you put a _two _on top, it's transparent so the card underneath it still counts...If you put a four down, it means the next person misses a go." The men seemed to be following, so she kept on. "...Six changes the direction of play from right to left, left to right...If an _eight _is down, you have to go lower and if a ten is played, then it clears the pack so we start putting down on the bare table again."

"What about these ones face down?" Bobby asked, curious about the unusual layout.

"Once you've played everything in your hand...you play the three face up...and once they're gone, you have to play the last three blind!"

"_Oh_!" The worried look on Bobby face said he hadn't been expecting that kind of complication.

"Sounds easy enough!" Chibs said confidently and Leni gave him a gentle smile; the rules were simple but the play was unpredictable.

"Maybe..._but_ if you can't match or beat what's down, you have to pick up _all_ the cards in the pot! The game keeps going until all but one person is left holding cards...who becomes the shithead." She told and Chibs realized it did have pitfalls. "_Oh_..." She recalled "...and the first person to put down a seven at any point during a round...has to play on with their pants down!" The boys laughed; the game already sounded like something they'd enjoy playing. "We'll play a practice round, so everyone knows how it works, then - _bring the pain_!" She smiled wickedly; already thinking up some embarrassing forfeits for whoever held the cards at the end - planning to escape before the cards fell against her.

She put the first card down -a three- and the play began, running to the right. Chibs was next; he had already guessed he'd be better off keeping the special cards so he matched Leni's three and looked to Bobby for his move. Leni took a sip of beer watching as the off duty Elvis pondered over his hand. Feeling Tig's eyes burning into her; she hoped like that she could be safely tucked up in the apartment before she used up all her luck. Knowing if she was left holding cards and Tig had his way, her forfeit would be sucking his dick or something equally as derogatory.

•••••••••••••••••••

It didn't take long for the men to get the hang of the game and once the practice round was over - the banter began. Playful mocking of one another as each player contemplated which card to put down for the best. Bitching when someone was forced to miss their go or the direction of play changed. Cheering laughter whenever a seven was placed or when someone had to pick up.

Tig hated to admit it, but he was enjoying the game. It was less serious than poker and allowed for laughter and chatter which in turn helped distract everyone from the coming day. Of course, he wasn't enjoying Leni's company though. Or the way she laughed with the dirty giggle she had. Or the way her lips caressed her cigarette or how they softly sucked around the mouth of a beer bottle when she drank. _No! _He didn't like any of that - he was just_ tolerating_ it.

Unsurprisingly, the men didn't need any help in creating simple, yet cruel and unusual punishments for whoever was left holding cards at the end of a round. They saw Juice lose and have to play the entire following round hopping on one foot with his back to the table. Which gave him a challenge of trying to juggle his own cards and avoiding picking up everyone else's as he played every card blind.

Losing a round had seen Half-Sack play the next game with a full glass of water balanced on his head. Which ended in disaster when it fell and showered everyone with water and dull shards of glass. Even Bobby had been unlucky and was forced to sit through a game dressed in -and covered by- all the bras and panties that were gathered over the bar - making him look like some bizarre lingerie version of Buck-A-Roo.

Happy and Chibs had both been cursed with 'Pants Down Seven' and had bared their asses to the table, but it was Tig who made the biggest deal out of it.

"Be careful now..." He said as he undid his pants. Making Leni's temperature rise a few degrees. "Might want to clear the table. I'm a big man, don't wanna knock anything over!" He teased, smiling smugly as Leni had rolled her eyes and turned her head away. She hated him for how good he looked unbuckling his belt.

As much as he refused to even consider it, if he was an outsider looking in - Tig would have to admit that she fitted in. Her gender still mattered to him, but his brothers didn't seem to care. She laughed at the same vulgar jokes they did, and took opportunities to make her own. She didn't cringe when they burped or scratched themselves. She didn't protest when they made sexist jibes or talked about their dicks, pussy and various other displays of manliness. Sure she had tits, lips, hips and probably a wonderfully perfect pussy of her own but for all intents and purposes, she was one of the boys. And she did it in such a way that unwittingly mesmerized Tig.

She laughed, along with them. Made her own snarky jokes and wisecracks as she swigged her beer and sucked down one cigarette after the other, but somehow she managed to look feminine while she did it. Smiling as she bit her lip in thought; tucking her hair behind her ear, or running her hand through it as she pushed it back out of her face. Hugging her knees into her chest as she watched the game play out before her. Tilting her head thoughtfully to the side, making her look innocent and coy. Tig's lust for her was growing by the second. It was a riddle to him how she sat there looking confident and sexy amongst the cigarette smoke and testosterone; a riddle that he knew he would only be able to solve from between her legs.

•••••••••••••••••••

"Aw fuck it!" Leni winced as she realized she had nothing she could put down and had to pick up a wedge of cards. She was screwed! Only Bobby and Half-Sack were left in the game, each with only two cards between them. She knew that if they'd learned to play the game properly, the cards they held were ones that would see them home and dry.

Sure enough, Bobby dropped a two down on the pile. Mirroring the six underneath it and in an instant he was clear of the game and waggled his fingers to show Leni she was done for. She shook her head and laughed softly. She knew they'd been playing all night with the aim of making her lose. She'd tired to pull herself away from the game several times but she couldn't resist another round. Enjoying the laughter and distraction too much to leave the company of the Sons.

"Sorry!" Half-Sack sighed as he put down his last card - a ten which removed the pile in the center of the table but still left Leni holding half a pack in her hand.

She sighed heavily, she'd been dreading this moment since she'd first suggested the game. Whatever forfeit the boys had in mind, she hoped it wasn't going to be too painful. She had no doubt Tig would be keen for revenge after having to sing and do the _'I'm a Little Tea Pot'_ dance every time it was his go in the previous round.

For a moment she guessed she was lucky; knowing from experience that the more booze that fueled the game, the wilder the forfeits got. She was grateful the men were still _relatively_ sober and were still only coming up with fairly innocent dares - but Happy had plans to up the ante.

"Give Killah here a lap-dance!" He insisted nodding to Tig, who's eyes widened excitedly.

Leni cocked her eyebrow in disbelief. "Oh Jesus Christ!" She said on a sigh. "I knew it wouldn't be long before y'all started with this kinda shit!"

Happy shrugged; his eyes challenging with a hint of playfulness - telling her she couldn't back out. He knew Tig had a thing for her and he could tell she hated it. He found a certain sense of enjoyment in challenging people and even though he held some respect for Leni, he had no problem in pushing her into such fires - especially if his brother would benefit.

She thought for a moment, showing no sign of stress on her face. She usually hated it when her gender became a factor, it was something that was eventually accepted by most, but _never_ forgotten.

During her childhood, she'd struggled to find her feet as a woman; lacking a female influence in her life. Her father was a man to turn to if you wanted to learn how to fight or shoot, fix a car engine or get rid of a dead body. He wasn't the kind of man who knew much about -or understood- the challenges young women faced. So, Leni had learned about make up from tatty waiting room magazines and was only told about puberty by one of the Saints old ladies; who came to her aid the day mother nature came to claim her as a woman.

Despite always having been a tomboy and feeling more comfortable with men than women; she knew it was important to keep her femininity. She tried hard not to be all encompassed by the masculinity that constantly surrounded her, but she knew any ounce of grace and softness she showed always carried the risk of highlighting the differences between her and the men in her life.

Her feminine wiles were the last of her skills that she ever called upon. She rarely ever used her sensuality to her advantage, refusing to give a flutter of her eyelashes or a pout of her lips to help business deals along. She knew it was a means to an end for a lot of women but she preferred to take the harder route to success, knowing it bought her more respect in the long run.

Happy had put her in a very difficult position. She was no stranger to dancing and never had a problem getting lost in music, but the idea of giving Tig something so intimate was difficult to swallow. She knew that if she refused, it would make a bigger deal out of her issues with him - something she really wanted to avoid.

Looking at it from a professional stand point; chickening out on a dare would make her look weak and too easily intimidated. If she didn't pay the forfeit she would risk being deemed unreliable with other -more important- deals. She couldn't afford to jeopardize herself in that way; needing the men on her side for the events of the coming day and their future involvement with her clubs interests. She needed their trust and as crazy as it was to think it, she knew this was the point at which she would begin building up their confidence in her. You couldn't be _half in_-_half out_ when it came to their world; it was all or nothing. If she showed she lived by those rules too -in every respect- she knew it would score her some brownie points.

Despite the benefits of accepting the challenge, she really didn't want to be giving Tig something he could enjoy. He'd been ogling her all night, with eyes that were both hungry and curious. Dancing for him would propel their relationship -_if__ you could call it __that_- into more dangerous waters. She knew he would take full advantage of any -_and every_- weakness she showed; and she knew it was undoubtedly safer to satisfy him with a cheap thrill than allow him to run off with the idea that she was untrustworthy.

She could already hear the way he'd be chirping to anyone who listened about how she'd suggested playing the game, only to back out at the most crucial part. He would delight in blowing her refusal out of all proportion. It was safer to give in and dance for him, knowing a few minutes of embarrassment would be better than the alternative; less damaging at least.

She really didn't have much choice but to go through with it. Her business acumen told her that it was the right thing to for the long run. Her sense and moral code told her she couldn't chicken out of a dare from her own game. Yet above everything, an old enemy raised its ugly head; her inability to turn away from a challenge!

Over recent years, she'd tried to train herself not to bite so hard on a test if it was dangled in front of her nose. However, when failure to accept the challenge meant looking weak - it was impossible for her to resist diving in head first.

"A'ight! I'll do it!" She agreed; silencing the voice in her head that told her she was crazy. Tig's eyes lit up - he couldn't believe his luck. "_BUT!_" She added quickly, pointing a finger at Happy. "Only if you dance for me after!" She teased, having quickly contrived a plan to cover her ass. "..._and_ I pick the songs!"

That almost made Happy's forget the idea; it was _her _forfeit - _not his_. Nowhere in the rules had she mentioned that someone else had to suffer for another's penalty! He was about to call it all off but then he caught sight of Tig's pleading eyes looking at him like a starving puppy - he had to throw him a bone.

Make an ass of himself in front of his peers, who were already too drunk to remember anything in the morning? _How bad could it be?_

"Deal!" He agreed confidently and they shook hands across the table before he could talk sense into himself.

With that she stubbed out her cigarette and picked her Ipod up off the table. She tried not to focus on Tig, who was smirking at everyone as if all his birthdays had come at once.

"Juice? Can you hook this up to the sound system?" She asked as she chose her track. Trying to convince the voice in her head that she wasn't about to make a huge fool of herself, in front of men who's respect she was yet to truly earn.

"Sure!" He nodded, standing up and getting to work. He wasn't sure how he felt about what she was about to do, but wild horses wouldn't have dragged him away from the show.

The remaining men watched her as she began to push an armchair and a table out of the way, to give herself some room to move. Tig was practically itching with desperation; a little voice in his head told him not to get too comfortable -she was dangerous and unpredictable- but he didn't listen. He was getting an up close and personal with the woman that had invaded every part of his mind since she appeared in his life, and he could hardly contain himself.

Moving back to the table, Leni took her chair and dragged it into a clear area of floor and the beckoned Tig over to her. Unsurprisingly he was up and in front of her like a bullet from a gun; not wanting to waste a second or give an inch to the deflating voices in his head. "Sit!" She told him, pointing to the chair.

"Yes ma'am!" He agreed and parked himself down in place, his eyes excited and keen to get started as she walked back to the bar and took a bottle of whiskey that was sitting open. She couldn't believe she was about to do this; it felt like she was betraying herself. She'd never done anything like this before as a dare, and especially not for someone she really didn't want to be around.

She was cursing herself for suggesting the damn game in the first place. She knew that she'd wind up in trouble. Knowing that when it came to men -no matter what they said- it all boiled down to sex. She'd allowed herself to feel at home -like she was one of them- but when it came to the crunch, their differences always separated them.

She knocked back some more whiskey and told herself to be cool, before turning to face him. If they wanted to see the differences between her and them, she'd go with it. Let them see she had a sexy, seductive side and hope it didn't affect her reputation in a worse way than the one she was trying to avoid.

"Do me one favour?" Tig asked deeply and she raised her eyebrow in reply. "Take your clothes off!"

"In your dreams!" She snarled, not willing to give him _that_ much for free.

"Every night baby!" He purred cockily. She didn't give him the satisfaction of an eye roll or a comeback. She knew she needed to keep all her emotions in check if she was going to get into the moment and pull it off. She couldn't afford to acknowledge the odd mix of feeling she had for him; she had to approach it like a business deal. Do what needed to be done and let that be an end to it.

Shakily, she knocked back a final dose of liquid courage as waited for the music to start. Hoping that the stinging liquor would numb her inside; calm the nerves and silence the voice of reason. She hated the feeling of regret but it was slowly creeping in. Asking her why the hell she suggested the damn game in the first place? Why the hell she didn't just decline the offer of company and go back to her room and struggle with her demons in the dark.

As if giving in to Tig wasn't bad enough, every man's eyes were on her - making her feel oddly self conscious. She had a good body and worked hard to keep fit and in shape but even a porn star would have felt like the nerdy girl in school with so many dangerous and _worldly-wise_ men staring at her.

She could already feel _his_ ravenous eyes burning into her and part of her was excited by the way he was there in front of her - open and waiting for her to do as she wished with him. He looked ridiculously good; still in the dark blue shirt, gray jeans and his kutte. The way he sat there so open and cocky encouraged the part of her that loved to challenge him, and men like him.

_Damn!_ She hated it, but a growing part of her really did want to fuck him! However, she had to settle for fucking _with _him. Showing him something she could never allow him to have. Let him taste it the cake batter but never allow him to have a slice of the finished product.

Bravely, she put the whiskey bottle down on the bar and strutted over to him with the liquor burning in her stomach. As she walked she looked him dead in the eye, her expression delicate yet dangerous. "If you touch me, I'll slit your throat!" She warned and Tig smirked challengingly. She shot him a cold glare which said she wasn't even _close_ to joking and his eyes softened, silently telling her he'd comply. A tiny glint flickered in his icy blue eyes, that suggested he was secretly enjoying the way she was taking command.

He relaxed back into the chair and she started to sway her hips to the music. He was going to make sure he enjoyed himself. Smiling inside about how he'd have something to brag about on the next run, or at a rally. Telling the story of the night Leni Jericho -_the Devil's Saints president_- gave him a lap-dance. Of course he'd leave out the part about it being a dare and maybe embellish the ending a little to include her sucking his dick or fucking him.

Whatever was really about to happen, he was going to make sure he enjoyed the hell out of it! He could care less if the Feds burst in - guns blazing. Nothing mattered but watching her and there wasn't anything in the world that would pull him out of that chair.

Trying to forget where she was and just what the hell she was doing - she rocked her body to the kicking drum. Pumping her hips to the beat as the dirty rock music began to build. Moving her shoulders in a counter motion to her pelvis; she swayed. Bringing her hands to the dance, rubbing them up her and down body a few times before taking them to her hair where she plucked the elastic, shaking out her long dark locks as the drums crashed and guitar rang out. Tig's eyes widened hungrily, as she moved closer to him; her body like liquid.

'_You got a body like the devil and you smell like sex...' _The voice sang - her hips never missing a beat as she moved in front of him. _'...I can tell you're trouble but I'm still obsessed...' _Tig smirked, this guy was reading his mind.

She swayed her body down low, crouching in front of him; running her fingers through her hair -in the way Tig wished he was allowed to do- before popping back up on the blast of beat. She swayed closer to him, her pelvis rolling and rocking, mimic the urges growing inside of him. She looked so feminine, using every part of her body to tease and tempt him.

As the music slowed again, she stepped closer and put her hand out touching his chest, stroking it across and then around his shoulders as she seductively circled him. Moving around to his left side, skilfully sinking down beside him and turning her back to him when she was low enough next to his legs.

Skilfully she began to roll her back in a snake-like movement to lay her upper body across his lap. Her head tipping backward, looking to the side to watch his face as she moved against him. His expression was a picture! She'd barely started and already he was under her spell. His eyes lost under a cloud of lust as she writhed against him.

To her surprise -as her body rippled against his- she felt a big, hard lump at his crotch pushing against her spine. The firebrand part of her made sure to brush against it lightly; teasingly. Drawing forth all the urges and sensations that Tig struggled to control.

His jaw tightened as she rubbed against him, his eyes fixated on her breasts until she wormed her way back upright. She tried not to let her surprise show - but it certainly seemed that he was right to brag about what he kept in his pants.

Peeling herself off him, she quickly slipped through to take a position between his legs for the second chorus. She put her hands on his knees ran her hands up his firm thighs, leaning into him as she swayed to the music. Her skilled legs pumping her up and down in front of him. Her eyes locked onto his as she ran her hands up over his chest, bringing her body close against his as she drew herself up to his eye-line.

His breathing was deep and ragged; riddled with lust. His eyes unfocused and mouth slightly open as if he wanted to speak but he was too lost to say a word. The violently surging tingles taking his voice and every sane thought from his head.

Letting her tongue run over her lips, she rubbed herself against him. Her chest pushing against his, sending his eyes rolling back into his head as his cock strained angrily against his jeans. His whole body was on fire at her touch.

The way her body moved showed so much promise. The sexual rhythm she kept, helped his mind drift to dirty places. Her sleek and seductive movements making her firm body stroke against him; the sensations the light friction cause was almost enough to finish him off completely.

Unwelcome tingles began to gather between her legs as she moved for him. Their bodies touching deliciously, making electricity pass between them. Sending her mind jumping to a momentary fantasy of him grabbing her by the hips and pushing her back into the bar; pulling her pants down and fucking her right there in the middle of the clubhouse.

_God!_ She needed more to drink! She couldn't be enjoying this sober!

Trying not to let the rapidly increasing tingling take control; she ran her hands up his strong arms and over his broad shoulders as she bought herself up to standing again. Turning around slowly between his legs, showing him her ass as she bent over in front of him. Grabbing her butt with both hands then sliding them down her swaying hips and over her thighs before she leaned back into him again. Rubbing her ass against the lump in his jeans, looking over her shoulder at him. Cruely she loved seeing the strain in his face and his neck; every ounce of his strength taken trying to restrain his hands that so badly wanted to grab at her.

She hated how much it turned her on to see him that way. So worked up and hungry for her, yet so helpless! It weakened her resolve against him. Made her want to experience all the naughty things that his eyes suggested.

She relaxed back into him fully; making the skilled, wave-like action with her back flush against his chest. Her lower back and butt rubbing against his cock again as she moved softly, up and down. She could feel his ragged breaths against her neck and she bit her lip. She didn't mean to enjoy it as much as she was, but seeing him so saturated by lust was encouraging her.

Slow and seductively, she turned herself around to face him once more, sliding her body up against his again. Moving up further this time, so her breasts were in his face. Her hands ran up his chest and along his shoulders, up the back of his neck and through his soft mess of hair as he licked his lips. His eyes feasting on her pert breasts that were calling his mouth to them. Close enough to touch; making his jeans tighten further.

To his surprise, she gripped his shoulders and straddled him effortlessly. Rocking her hips, rubbing herself against his crotch in time with the music, practically dry humping him as she ran her fingers through his hair and down over his strong chest.

His expression made her smile wickedly; he was completely at her mercy. Putty in her hands. His brain switched to only thoughts of her and what she was doing to him. Thoughts of what he'd like to do to her.

As the song reached its climax, she let her upper body slip backward with a swish of her hair as the guitar squealed. Tig looked down at her as she writhed around on him, his eyes flashing to a fantasy of her being naked; riding him. Leaning back just enough to show where his body would enter hers.

Her firm stomach muscles helped her raise back upright; her devilish eyes meeting with his. Her weight centered again as she resumed rocking her body against his. Running her hands up and down his solid chest and around his broad shoulders as she ground her hips into him, making his eyes flutter as desire dragged him under.

Her hands curled around the back of his neck to bring his head closer to hers as she flaunted her breasts in his face while the song began to fade out. His itchy hands so desperate to touch her, his mouth hungry to kiss her, his skin needing to feel her against it.

He was lost in a haze of aching desire, every nerve in his body heightened and excited by the way she moved and how her body felt against his. His limbs felt like jelly, as she continued to rub herself against him. Her body wriggling on his lap with the dying music. He wasn't sure if he was still breathing, or if he was drooling; surrendering his self-awareness to her sexy performance and the call of her slinky body.

The final strum of the guitar reverberated around the club house as she planted a soft kiss on his cheek, making his eyes fall closed for a moment before she carefully pealed back to look at him.

Tig's head flopped exhaustedly to the side. His body full of warmth and hunger. His jaw slack and eyes glassy as his gaze caught on the other bikers who were watching with enthralled expressions.

The fading guitar finally died and in an instant her act was over. With silence dropping on the room like a bomb; she quickly climbed off him. Stood up straight and tied her hair back up like nothing had ever happened.

She looked down at Tig without a veil of lust over her eyes and she smiled. It looked as if he'd been rode hard and put up wet. His eyes hooded and lacking focus, his clothes ruffled and his hair even messier than usual. It was obvious that he had thoroughly enjoyed himself.

She knew she'd probably pushed all his most dangerous buttons with her little performance but they both got a kick out of it. It made them both forget their own minds -rules and hostilities- for a few minutes. An escape they both didn't know they needed so badly.

She hooked her thumb over her shoulder, instructing him to move. "It's my turn!" She laughed her eyes on Happy, who was looking increasingly unnerved as his time came - he had been hoping she'd forget.

Relieved the worst was over, Leni turned and walked back to the bar to see Juice and organize Happy's torture. The other bikers shook off their daze, some cleared their throats, while others knocked back some booze to stop themselves passing comment on the show they'd just seen.

"Excuse me, Gentlemen!" Tig said gruffly, getting up from the chair as best he could -_given the circumstances_- and heading for the bathroom. His manhood was frequently '_inspired'_ at random intervals and sometimes in the most impractical of locations, so he was used to willing away a hard-on but what Leni had caused in his jeans was past the point of no return. It had to be dealt with - _hands on._

She caught sight of him making his exit but put the thought out of her mind. She didn't know how she felt about what she just did, or what Tig was doing with the aftermath, but she didn't want to dwell on it. Not when she was about to extract her revenge on Happy and make everyone in the room completely forget what she'd just done.

She took the bottle of whiskey and walked over to the chair and sat down. It was still warm from Tig's body and a shiver ran up her spine. Her mind flashing to an image of what could have been between them if they were alone; and if she was feeling more _accommodating._

Shaking off the thought; all the femininity that she'd shown during her dance was gone, as she sat back cockily; head tilted to the side - bottle of whiskey in hand. She beckoned Happy over to her and he sighed but got up reluctantly. He wasn't going to renege on their deal but something told him, whatever she had planned for him, would be something he'd never live down. The guys would be talking about his dance for days, _not hers _- which was actually what she'd planned!

"Juice, hit it!" She shouted and sound began to fill the clubhouse.

A short acoustic guitar intro played and the juvenile voice began_ - "ooh woah ohoohohoh oh.. oh wooah ohohoooh...I know you love me...I know you care...just shout whenever...and I'll be there..."_

"Oh Jesus Christ!" Happy exclaimed, his dark eyes practically murderous as recollection hit the men drunk men to his left and laughter followed. Out of all the songs she could have chosen, she had to pick some God awful teeny-bopper shit.

"Dance boy!" She laughed. The seated Sons were taken over by riotous laughter and applause as Happy shook his head begrudgingly but steadily began to move from side to side. Doing his best to fight the infectious irritation of pop music. He might have been drunk enough to agree to her mirrorer dare, but it would take a keg of beer -or six- to make him like the music.

He looked beyond pissed but he kept moving, stepping from side to side; glaring at Leni as he swayed his arms in time with his feet. Doing his best to look as if he was dancing, without actually _dancing_. The amusement on Leni's face told him she wasn't going to take it seriously, much to his relief. So, he began to add some humour into his moves, showing a side of himself that rarely saw the light of day.

Bobby, Chibs, Half-Sack and Juice were fighting back tears of laughter as they watched on. Happy didn't have any of the sensuality Leni did but his moves were full of comedy. Pulling off a few silly club dances and twirling around a few times before trying to dance up on her as she did with Tig. He was doing a terrible job at being sexy but neither of them could stop laughing as the Sons mockingly waved dollar bills at him.

Even the stone cold nomad couldn't resist smiling as he grabbed her head and pushed his chest against her face like she'd done with Tig, making her choke with laughter. When he stepped off, he gave her some hip swinging and silly hand dancing and when he thought he could finally escape his torture, he grabbed her hand and dragged her up to her feet to dance with him.

Laughter battled with the music as he rocked side to side with her. Twirling her around while the guys clapped and laughed along; unable to believe what they were seeing. Watching with tear blurred eyes as they two bikers dance stupidly together for a few moments; pulling off simple, but silly dance moves before joining hands again. Their faces aching with laughter as they forgot for a moment, that they were in fact dangerous people -who took no issue with killing- not silly teenagers at prom.

Tig walked back in to the room mid show, his eyes taking in the ruckus and felt his stomach twist and jealousy grab at his throat. He stood there watching helplessly as Happy danced with Leni - spinning her out and pulling her back in. Rocking back and forth with her close against his body. She looked so happy; laughing and lost in the moment - and for a second he wanted to swap what he'd had for what Happy was experiencing.

As the music faded out, laughter took over the room. Leni and Happy parted and she put her hand to her side. She hadn't laughed so much in a very long time. Truth be told, she couldn't believe Happy had actually gone through with it and she admired him all the more for it.

"You better sleep with one eye open!" Happy warned, pointing a finger at her but with no malice in his eyes. He knew he'd be the brunt of jokes for weeks but he couldn't deny it had been worth it. It was nice not to have to be so stoic for a moment. To have a laugh and show that he could be a lot more than people often assumed.

"My eyes will never recover from that!" Bobby said, breathless from laughter and surprise.

"Nightmares tonight man!" Chibs chuckled. Leni smirked to herself; _mission accomplished_.

"I am so putting this on Youtube!" Juice laughed with Half-Sack as Happy turned to see he was standing behind the bar fiddling with his video capturing cellphone. Quickly adding up the situation; Happy saw fire!

"Oh hell no!" He barked, pulling his knife and diving for the bar. Half-Sack ducked into the back room for safety, Juice took off running out the back-door with the Nomad in hot pursuit.

He stopped only for a second to tell Tig he owed him a _big __one_ before taking up the chase; racing after the Puerto Rican - leaving a room full of laughter in his wake.

"He's never going to live that down!" Chibs laughed, standing up and walking over to the bar.

"I know!" Leni smiled. She knew exactly how the tales would go. They'd start with talk of how she had to given a lap-dance to Tig, but as soon as the words Happy and _dancing_ entered the conversation, all interest in what she did to Tig would evaporate. "Think we should call it a night before this shit gets any more ridiculous!" She gave with a grin.

Although she'd abused her sexuality, it was for their amusement and because of that -oddly- each of the guys had a little more respect for her than they did before - _Happy too!_ He took one for the team and although they'd mock him over it forever, they also admired him for having the balls to not take himself -or their world- so serious for a few minutes.

She gave Chibs, Bobby and Half-Sack a hug, and knocked back the last of her beer as they all set about leaving for the night. Heading back to her room, she couldn't avoid crossing paths with Tig, who was still standing blankly in the corridor.

She cast him a sideway's glance and their eyes locked. Lust passing between them for a moment before their eyes darkened; swells of confused emotions flooding in now the fun had passed.

There was no denying they wanted each other but as long as Leni had control of her faculties - she would never let it happen. _She couldn't!_ That lap-dance was as close as he'd ever get to being between her legs.

"That make you wet?" He whispered to her, his eyes dark with desire; his voice devilish.

Leni smirked. "Yeah...I'm goin' to _flick the bean_ out right now!" Tig's eyes sparkled, foolish and hopeful enough to think she was being honest with him. Then her eyes changed -the demon in her taking over- and he knew she was fucking with him - _again!_ And with that, she was gone.

Hurrying away to the relative safety of her room. Leaving Tig standing alone in the deserted clubhouse, plagued with an odd mixture of emotions and thoughts that he knew would be keeping him up all night.

**A/N:**_ So there you have it. I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter. __Please review, if you made it this far and would like to see more!_

I have noticed that in the communication I have with some of the readers out there via PM's and what not; a lot of similar questions are being asked. So next chapter I will try to do something to answer them for everyone. If anyone else has a question about the story between now and then, please feel free to holla at me via PM/review (you don't need to sign up to comment) or an email.


	9. Chapter 8: Business and Pleasure

**A/N: **Thank you all _so_ much for the outpouring of reviews on the last chapter. I was really blown away by the show of support and interest. Especially since I had worried about forcing poor ole' Happy to shake his groove thing haha! Thanks to everyone who took time to leave me a review. You guys are awesome, and you keep me posting!

This was originally one chapter, but it totaled in at eighteen pages long - which seemed excessive for one update. So, I decided to split it up into two and subsequently this is not the most action packed installment, but everything that happens over the next two chapters is leading to something significant happening between Tig and Leni.

I hope you all enjoy it and if you want it, I will post the next part as soon I get a chance to give it a final once over! Let me know! :o)

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

**Fire Woman by The Cult  
**_Wound up, can't sleep, c__an't do anything right, little honey  
Oh, since I set my eyes on you  
I tell you the truth  
Twistin' like a flame in a slow dance, baby  
You're driving me crazy  
Come on, little honey  
Come on now  
•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•  
_

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Eight || **Business and Pleasure **

The following morning came around too soon for everyone involved. The rowdy events of the night before meant very little sleep and awakening to screaming hangovers. The bikers minds -scattered across Charming- were heavy with the looming threat of the days task and no one was more irritable and anxious than Tig. Who struggled to drag himself out of bed and into the shower, trying to stall starting the day as much as he could.

His mood had quickly soured once he found himself alone, and he had barely slept a wink for the visions of her body that had inundated his mind all night. Desires and urges building to boiling point with no satisfying outlet for a release. He hated the way she was under his skin. How she'd made him want her so much it made him burn inside. Cruelly letting him taste what she had to offer before snatching it away again. _Heartless bitch!_

Mixed in with the sexy replay of the performance she given him, were painful visions of her with Happy. Laughing and joking around without a single thought for him or a care about what she'd done; how she'd made him feel. He knew he shouldn't give a shit -he'd met his fair share of teases before- but something about her pushed all his buttons in a way no woman had before.

He couldn't understand why he found himself so caught up on her. She wasn't anything special! Sure, she was pretty and he couldn't help but find her attractive; but one gash was the same as another when you boiled it down. Whenever he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more about her that set her widely apart from all the other women that came in and out of his life.

He guessed maybe because she was a mystery; something he struggled to wrap his head around. Maybe it was because she was powerful and held the respect of so many men like him, in such a different way to Gemma. Maybe it was just because he'd become addicted to the challenge of trying to get the things he knew he couldn't have.

He was working hard to replace his wanting for her with hatred. Knowing how much more sense hate made to him; how he felt so much more comfortable with it. Yet the more he tried to dislike her, the more it seemed to have the opposite effect. The more he came to want her and the deeper she drew him in.

She seemed to know it too - teasing him the way she did. Provoking him with her mix of subtle and blatant lures. Challenging him to react to her and suggesting so many things with her eyes, before throwing cold water over him; making him feel like a fool.

Part of him considered that maybe_ he _was the problem, reading too much into the way she was around him. How he caught her looking over, with that wondering look in her eyes. The way she played hard to get; bitchy and cool. How she rolled her eyes and looked unimpressed by the things he said and did. Showing her aggression and coldness towards him whenever he called for it, and sometimes when he didn't.

Of course he wasn't over reacting!_ She was a bitch_, and he was fast running out of patience for her _and_ her bullshit. She was trouble; a threat to him and all he cared about. He couldn't let her witchcraft distract him from that fact. She was playing games with him and his club and he knew it wouldn't be long before he had to show her she was playing with fire.

Grumpy -through lack of sleep and frustration- he stalked out into the clubhouse. Surprised to find it deserted but there was a welcome sign of life in the form of coffee brewing behind the bar. He grabbed pack of smokes off the counter and filled a mug with hot and strong black liquid. He glanced around as he lit up a cigarette and saw that the chair he'd sat in a few hours earlier was still in the same place.

A flashback hit him hard. Dragging him back to the way she moved in his lap, rubbing herself against him, touching him with delicate hands. Dancing right in front of him, shaking her ass; tempting him - he growled deeply. '_Cock teasing bitch!'  
_  
Guessing a breath of fresh air might help shift the cobwebs in his head and aggression on his shoulders - he put the cigarette in his mouth and took his mug of stimulants to the door. Pushing it open and wincing against the bright morning sunlight that stung his tired eyes.

He took a step out into the warm air and allowed his eyes a moment to adjust; before trying to focus through the haze of daylight. His tired, bleary eyes took a moment to clear before settling on quite a sight - which made him wish he'd stayed in bed.

Half-Sack was standing behind the punch bag, bracing it while Leni threw kicks and punches into it. She was dressed all in black; a skimpy pair of shorts topping her long legs and a short and stretchy tank top clinging to her slim torso. Her punching hands were wrapped in protective fabric to the wrist and her feet moved fast in lightweight black boxing shoes.

He hissed to himself; she had too much skin showing - glistening with a fine layer of sweat around her waist and lower back; down her shoulders and arms. Shimmering all over the smooth skin of her legs. Tig swallowed hard; pushing back his arousal and the invading thoughts of ways in which he could make her just as hot and sweaty.

"Good Monin' Tig!" Half-Sack said - ever cheerful.

Leni's shoulders dropped and she stopped what she was doing. _'Great!'_ She thought to herself. Just what she didn't need.

"Yes it is!" Tig purred. Eyeing Leni up provokingly, as she glanced over her shoulder at him. Trying not to notice how good _he_ looked in a tucked in black shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow and those gray jeans he seemed surgically attached to. Coldly shutting down her animal attraction, she cut him a look which told him to shut up and disappear. Of course, he had no intention of walking away. If thoughts of her could bother him all night, he could surely return the favor and bug her for a while during her morning workout.

Confident and eager to annoy, he walked over and sat down at the picnic bench. His back to the table so he faced out to Leni and the punch bag. His wise eye could see how her demeanor changed with his presence, and he really hoped she _was_ feeling awkward after her little performance the night before. He prayed she'd suffered through the night the way he had. Riddled with dirty urges and unfulfilled desires. Leaving him annoyingly unsatisfied, which always made him aggressive and moody.

He relaxed back, tilting his head to the side curiously. The heel of his palm resting on his belt buckle; his fingers draped over his crotch. He watched on as Leni smacked the bag - pounding fists, elbows, knees and feet into it. The power with which she hit the bag surprised him. She had no bulk to her and but she was toned well in all the right places and clearly had more than enough strength to take down an attacker. Her elbow blows seemed particularly vicious, and despite his urges to play rough with her, Tig silently hoped he was never on the receiving end of one.

The sound of impacts echoed around the yard as she tried to ignore his leering eyes, burning into her bare flesh. Begging her to look at him, but she refused to. She didn't want to see him or the look in his eyes - knowing everything it meant.

During the sleepless night, it had dawned on her that she could have made a huge mistake in giving in to him and Happy. She'd done so to ensure the trust of the Sons -build the foundations for an alliance- yet she was starting to realize instead of bringing Tig in closer, she had probably pushed him further away and out into unstable waters.

She'd showed him something she knew he desperately wanted and rejecting him the way she did could only prove to have been a dangerous and stupid move. She knew he had to be annoyed with the way she'd played him and if it occurred to him, he could take that anger and use it in one of _many_ ways to fuck her over.

While she was in the hospital, taking care of their Mayan problem; he was going to be driving the getaway car and monitoring the police scanners for any approaching dangers. Her safety and survival was largely in his hands. If his hostility towards her overtook him and turned into a lust for revenge, he could so easily bail on her and leave her stranded with cops at her heels.

She was so angry at herself for not thinking it things through properly, she'd practically given him a written excuse to betray her and she hated herself for it. She hit the bag harder, more in self-loathing than animosity towards Tig. He had the ammunition to fire at her and she'd given him all the reason he needed to shoot.

Worry crept further up her back as she punched. The liquid anger inside her was heating up, threatening to start spitting viciously; all over her _and him_. She tried hard to focus her mind on training, hoping that the physical outlet would be enough to soothe the building fury inside herself. Visualizing Tig's face on the bag as she punched and kicked it with all her might. Hitting hard to get back at him for the situation he'd helped put her in, and everything he could hold over her head on that day. Punching even harder to try to punish herself for her stupidity in getting carried away with the Sons!

Tig tried but couldn't resist it when his mind drifted out of the world for a moment; filthy images dancing in front of his eyes. The sight of her half-naked - hot; glowing with sweat and breathless was too much. His jeans shrank with each powerful blow she dealt. The soft noises she made as she hit turned him on more and more, giving him a tiny aural hint of how she'd sound with him fucking her.

He had gone outside to try to clear his mind of her and finding her there was something he didn't initially welcome, but now - he couldn't tear himself away. He was unwittingly being pulled under her spell again, his lust for her intense and needy as he played out scenarios involving her legs wrapped around him; panting heavily.

He watched her work and longed to switch places with Half-Sack. Wanting a better look at her face and her tits as she worked out her anger on the bag. Imaging how sexy she'd look if she had as much aggression and fire in her eyes as she did in her arms and legs.

He was so lost in his fantasies, he felt as if he was drifting away to a nicer time and place filled with dreams of excitement and pleasure. That was until Chibs bought along a rude awakening in the form of a good, hard slap on the back - announcing his arrival.

"Filling up your spank bank again Tiggy?" He asked in a laugh as he passed by into the clubhouse ready to prepare for the day.

"Absolutely!" Tig smiled wickedly. His eyes brighter; broken out from under the haze she'd cast over him.

Leni heard it all and let out an audible grunt of disgust and smashed her fists into the bag harder. Imaging Tig's face on the black canvas in front of her again, clearer this time - almost in 3D. "Woah! Easy!" Half Sack cried, almost taken off balance by her blows.

Suddenly Tig felt a ghost of worry flutter through him; something told him if he hung around for too much longer he'd wind up being pummeled to death. So -cutting her some undeserved slack- he stubbed out his cigarette, knocked back his coffee and got to his feet; heading into the clubhouse after Chibs.

"You hit like a girl!" He called teasingly as he passed her. Wincing when her reply came in the form of a blow to the bag that sent a sound-wave slamming into his back. Something told him it was going to be an interesting day.

•••••••••••••••••••

Having showered and changed into a loose fitting black t-shirt -a souvenir from a Pantera tour in the late nineties- and a pair of yoga pants, Leni padded barefoot into the barroom of the clubhouse and looked around at the members of SAMCRO and the two faces from her own MC. Realizing something was off, she frowned deeply.

"Connie? What are you doin' here? Where's Murph?" Leni asked, having specifically asked the clubs current _'go-to guy'_ to be a part of the job.

"Family shit. Asked me to come instead!" The Saint replied. A man who's average -yet athletic- frame made it so he would have blended in with most crowds, but the mass of tattoos he wore from his neck to his hands made him stand out by a mile. His long jet black hair, ink designs and the structure of his face told he had Native American heritage somewhere along his bloodlines.

Leni sighed, she should have guessed Murphy would let her down. She'd already met with resistance regarding SAMCRO from him and his closest friend in the Saints - Sully. She had hoped he'd get over it and do his duty to help her out, having explained to him how it was in everyones best interests to pull together. She'd also hoped to keep the dirty deed she was doing on a_ 'need to know'_ basis, yet it seemed more she tried to keep it hushed, the more people were getting pulled in.

"Alright!" She said on a light sigh, annoyed that she'd been let down by one of her men, but excepting of the given excuse. With a troubled mind, she tried to assure herself as she looked over the Saints who had been enlisted a day earlier.

Despite the tattoos and long hair, Connie was one of the more '_inconspicuous_' looking guys in her club. Wise to the ways of toning down his appearance, he had tied his hair back and dressed in clothes fitting to a character driving an old BMW.

The second man; the older of the two, was Buford Brady -_Bear_ to those who knew him- one of the oldest Saints. A guy who fitted his nickname well with a kind face hidden underneath a scruffy old baseball cap and a fuzzy graying beard. He kept his mousey hair longer than most men of his age but it suited him overall. Although he looked as if he'd be more at home behind the wheel of an eighteen-wheeler truck, than the handle bars of a Harley.

Bear had been as close as tongue and teeth with Leni's father Henry. He was one of the Devil's Saints 'Founding Five' and the only one other than her father who had ventured out from Georgia, across country with him to set up shop on the West Coast in California.

Despite his close friendship with her father, Bear had been one of the toughest men to convince of her worthiness to join the club. Seemingly steadfast in his beliefs about a woman's place in the MC world. However, once she'd earned his trust and respect, he had shown her nothing but devotion and support. Surprisingly being one of the biggest champions for her election to president, of a charter in the notorious club he'd helped create.

He was a wise man and had taken what Leni had told him about the mission and the vehicles she'd secure and decided to dress in a fading flannel shirt, old jeans and dusty boots. The perfect costume for riding behind the wheel of a tatty old pick-up truck and the exact opposite of sleeker, more professional look Connie had gone for.

Despite the change in personnel, things seemed to be panning out. Finding no real cause for concern, Leni looked away from her men -ready to set things in motion- and her sight caught on Tig. He was staring at her with darkened eyes again and it made her uneasy. Reminding her that he could so easily crush her if he realized it.

The look he wore shook her confidence and made her wonder if it was all worth the risk. So much was on the line, both her physical and emotional freedom were under threat if she went through with it, but she knew she couldn't back out. Things had gone too far, and so many people were looking to her to come through for them. People she needed to pull together to help her club to survive.

"Okay guys!" She called out, locking down the trepidation she felt. Her voice strong and bold, showing no signs of the apprehension she felt inside. "Listen up!" With that she stepped over to the bar, popped open a black Halliburton case, to displaying various pieces of technology before effortlessly pulling herself up to sit on the bar where she could see everyone better.

"We're gonna need to keep in contact." She told, as she began to take out small two-way radios from the box, tossing out one to Juice, then one to Tig - being sure not to make any further eye contact with him. "...Could be that the cop gets back to find this guy dead before I get out...If the reinforcements show up, I _need _to know." She implored, then took out a couple of small ear pieces and threw one to each of the Saints and one to Half-Sack who would be the man on the front line.

Dressed in a dark green hoodie and with a baseball cap waiting in his back pocket; he could easily keep watch in the waiting room without becoming a red flag for the Feds to find later. "You guys let me know as soon as rent-a-cop arrives on the scene..._or_ if anythin' goes wrong." She said to her two men. "Sack? You give me the heads up if the cop doesn't show or if rent-_a-bitch_ can't keep up the act!"

"Alright!" He nodded, his nervous energy very apparent as he fidgeted in place. Tig waited for her to address him, but she didn't even look his way. He was the one responsible for getting her the hell out of the dodge and keeping an ear to the scanner; making sure that the police weren't tipped off before her plan played out. The least she could do was give him some instruction too, but the bitch said nothing.

"Now, gentlemen...if you'll excuse me...I've gotta go put my face on!" With that, she slipped down off the bar, parted the crowd and disappeared into the depths of the clubhouse.

The men looked at each other curiously, no one knew what she was plotting and there wasn't much else for them to do but sit and wait. Happy and Chibs had already headed out to Sacramento to fill in for Leni's guys and Jax had slipped out to go with Gemma to take Able for his hospital check-ups. Knowing it would be a good idea for him to have a solid alibi at the Mayan's time of death.

Clay had rejected the idea of being seen elsewhere, feeling that would be too out of the ordinary to appear legitimate. So he stuck around to see how things played out and to be certain that Leni was going through on her promise.

He, Bobby and Piney had work to get to in the garage, but they all wanted to hang around and see what she had up her sleeve. She'd mentioned a disguise and most of the Sons were expecting her to come out in a fake nose with a Groucho mustache and matching glasses attached.

Juice took a few moments to run over the plan again, making sure Tig knew all the locations he had to run drop-offs and pick-ups, but he was only half listening. Lost in thought as the prospect dutifully dished out some beers and the men tried their best to relax. Filling each other in on various tidbits of club business, gossip and chitchat. Tig hardly said a word as he stood near the bar, observing everyone - especially the two men from the Devil's Saints. He still couldn't grasp how they allowed _her_ to lead them. _Silly little, game playing gash!_

His bitterness towards her was building up again and he was starting to wonder if he wanted to swap out his job with Chibs and Happy. The thought of having to hang around with her after last night wasn't filling him with enthusiasm. He felt as if he would end up with his hands wrapped around her throat before the end of the day, and he knew it would be easier to remove himself from the situation completely. However when he saw Juice look at his watch and get to his feet - his interest in the matter was suddenly turned up to eleven.

"Where you goin'?" He asked with a scowl; noticing how the Puerto Rican picked up a digital camera off the bar and pointed himself in the direction of Leni's apartment.

"I gotta finish Leni's badge." He told, and quickly escaped before Tig could ask anything else. He was growling inside, unable to believe that Juice was going into her room by himself. _While _she was getting changed and doing whatever it was women did before they went out. He clenched his jaw and cast his eyes away; weakly telling the anger in his gut to chill out.

He tried not to, but Tig couldn't stop himself counting the minutes Juice was away for. Two minutes turned into five, five jumped to ten, ten to fifteen. _'Jesus Christ! How fuckin' long does it take to get a photo?' _He snarled to himself. Trying not to let the devil get the better of him; feeding his anger and anxiety as he wondered just what the hell they were up to, in the privacy of her room where he couldn't see.

Why was he getting so pissed off about it, he didn't know. It wasn't like she was blowing him. _Was she?_

•••••••••••••••••••

By Tig's count, it was twenty-three minutes and a handful of seconds before Juice came back into the room. Smiling to himself with that big cheesy grin of his; looking like he'd just been told a joke or that he'd won the lottery.

"What's funny?" Tig growled, feeling jealousy twist up his insides as Juice hurried over to his computer.

"Wait 'til you see her dude...it's awesome!" He beamed; quickly hooking up his camera to his laptop and putting the finishing touches to her identity badge.

_'It better be!'_ Tig grumbled to himself. Sick of waiting for her to get her ass back out where he could see. _What the hell was she doing in there anyway? _

Anxious, he cracked open another beer and tipped it down his throat. Hoping to soothe the burning he felt in his gut. He needed to do something to distract himself before he stormed into her room and dragged her out into the open by her hair.

Realizing he was pacing along the bar, he wandered over to the table where the cluster of bikers had dug in. He pulled up a chair, plonked himself down and tried to tune into the conversation. He was willing to talk about anything if it kept his mind off that bitch and her wicked ways.

The minutes seemed to drag on again as he listened to Bobby talk with Bear about his beloved Fat Boy. Tig tried not to tap his foot angrily, but there wasn't much else for him to do or say; though at least the sound of other people's voices drowned out the one in his head. The one that whispered cruel thoughts of all the things she could be doing; everything she was plotting. All the ways she could destroy that which he loved.

"Fellas!" Leni's voice called out, taking everyone's attention.

_'Bout fuckin' time!'_ Tig growled to himself before his eyes caught on her and widened like never before.

"Jesus Christ!" Bobby gasped. "Leni?" All eyes were on her in a wave of open-mouthed stares as she moved closer to the table. Dressed in light green hospital scrubs, covered by a white lab coat and cheap, white slip-on shoes covering her feet.

She was unrecognizable; in a shoulder length dark blond wig, that looked as natural as her own hair. Only the sharper eyes of the group noticed that her iris color had changed from blue to brown, as everyone's attention was focused on the left side of her face, which had been completely changed by a subtle but distracting prosthetic scar.

She was well versed in the art of disguise and knew that the only thing the cop would clearly remember was the unusual mark on her face. She had completed her disguise with a pair of dark rimmed eyeglasses. Changing her appearance so much that not even the members of her own club could have recognized her in a line-up.

Tig was stunned. She looked so plain; so _normal_. No rings or bracelets, all her tattoos were covered by make-up and clothing. Her eyes -with such capacity for coldness- looked innocent and warm. Everything about her was different, even the way she carried herself. And yet, Tig could still see her underneath it all and he wanted her - more so than ever. Her scheming turned him on in ways he couldn't understand - or justify. His mind was already running off with sexy ideas about how much fun it would be to fool around with her in a blond wig, and the glasses she had on.

Leni's specs reminded him of a school teacher he once had; the woman who had been responsible for breathing life into his dormant young lust. It was the woman's huge rack and short skirts that really did it, but the glasses had helped too. Giving the mature woman an air importance and intelligence that he wanted to fuck out of her, even at such a young age. Seeing Leni standing there reminding him so much of his youthful desires pushed his lust for her up another notch. He growled deeply to himself; the things he wanted to do to that devious bitch would make a whore blush.

"Actually, it's Doctor Whitaker!" Juice announced, springing up out of nowhere to hand Leni a freshly created -and very legitimate looking- ID badge.

Leni took it from him with a smile; he'd done a great job. "Well now...ain't you as handy as a pocket on a shirt!" She said to him and Juice almost blushed. A boost of confidence evident for everyone to see in his cheesy -uncontrollable- grin.

"That's so weird!" Half-Sack said coming close, eyeballing the fake scar like a curious Meerkat. "How the hell did you learn to do that?"

"When I was doing time - I had this cell-mate...she was a television makeup artist, before she force fed her husband bleach." Leni said with a faint smile; having always appreciated a vengeful woman. "She taught me a few tricks to help me get up to no good!"

"That's awesome!" Half-Sack beamed more amazed than anyone else by how she'd completely changed herself. "I'm so coming to you for help this Halloween!" The two of them chuckled together and Tig's eyes narrowed. He hoped she'd be long gone from his life before _that_ time of year rolled round.

Clay looked at her knowingly and gave her a soft smile of appreciation. She was cunning and smart - truly her father's daughter. Whoever saw her would likely only remember the scar, if they remembered anything else at all it would be nothing that could connect back to her or -_more importantly_- SAMCRO. She would be free to roam the hospital and carry out their dirty deed. She could be a ghost just as her father had taught her to be.

The chat and banter around the table grew louder as the guys praised Leni for her disguise. Her eyes caught on Tig's for a second before she looked away. She hated it, but she cared what he thought. Part of her craved his approval; gaining acceptance or admiration from the most opposing member of SAMCRO would be a tiny victory - a boost of confidence- which was something she really needed at that moment. Unexpectedly a shadow crossed her mind, shamelessly reminding her that he was an asshole; telling her that she shouldn't waste a second on worrying about what he thought of her.

"So, is everyone clear on the plan?" Clay asked. Heads around the table nodded. "Juice? Sack? You ride with Leni and Tig in the Taurus out front." He insisted. Knowing the Saints would ride their bikes out to the garage in Concord where the previously acquired cars waited for them.

Keen to get the show on the road, the men threw back the last of their beers and washed out of the clubhouse door like a tide. Clay tossed a set of keys to Tig and gave him a knowing look that warned him to remain professional until the job was done. The sergeant-at-arms looked ever-so slightly sheepish for a second, before he slipped out of the clubhouse into the afternoon sunshine.

Not realizing she was stalling, Leni slowly put on a black hoodie before hesitantly following after Clay at the rear of the group. He slowed to a stop, allowing her to take just a few steps past him before he let his instincts take over and he reached out to grab her arm; keeping her back for a moment.

He waited for a second; until the clubhouse door fell closed before he spoke. "Are you okay with this?"

Leni looked at him -emotionless- for a beat. "Are you asking if I'm okay with _the plan_, or am I okay with killing someone in cold blood?"

"Whaddayou think?" Clay retorted.

Leni hated that he was making her question herself. Encouraging her morals to abuse the kink in her armor; trying to force their way through to convince her of how wrong it all was. "Me and my conscience parted ways a long time ago, Clay." She told him confidently, but something in her eyes gave her away and his expression softened. He didn't believe it, and it made a chill creep inside her. "Does he have any family..._kids_?" As soon as the words came out of her mouth she regretted asking but thankfully, Clay shook his head.

"Not that we know of."

Leni nodded - _relieved_. "Was he a bad guy?"

"Better than some; worst than most. He was a crack dealer, took no issue with selling to kids...He was arrested on a rape charge in the early eighties but the case was dropped..." Both of them knew it was likely the victim disappeared or suddenly lost her voice. "...and seems he threw his ex-wife a few beatings."

She thought for a moment and nodded. "Then I'm fine with it." With that, she drew the bolt across her emotions; there was no time to allow emotions to get the better of her.

Clay nodded and put his hand on her shoulder by way of assurance and comfort. He was still uncomfortable with asking so much of her and the merciful -fatherly- part of him wanted to offer her an escape if she needed it. "If it doesn't feel right, or if _anything_ goes wrong...you get out of there. _Okay_?"

Leni gave him a soft smile and nodded. She appreciated his concern _and_ his offer of escape, but she wouldn't tell him that it didn't feel right to do what she was about to. She wouldn't show him -_or_ _anyone_- a sign of weakness, not when so much was on the line. She'd do what had to be done. She was too far in to back out, and way beyond redemption with all the crimes and brutality she'd committed and been a party to in her life.

One more black mark wouldn't make much difference, _would_ it?

**A/N: **Thanks for reading guys. Please let me know what you think, your reviews and support mean a lot to me.


	10. Chapter 9: Reaper For A Day

**A/N: **Big thanks to everyone who reviewed/followed/fave'd on the last chapter. I had intended to post this a lot sooner but real life has a very nasty habit of getting between me and writing. I was unhappy a few parts of this chapter so it needed a bit of a rewrite, hence the delay/chapter split. It's a little bit "Leni-centric" in parts but in chapter ten there will be a game changer which sees a lot of Tig action, so if you're still down for the ride - please let me know!

Also, I totally forgot that I said I'd answer some questions in the last update. So at the end of this chapter, there is the Q&A I promised. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•  
**Stop And Say You Love Me by Evans Blue**

**Slip Out The Back by Fort Minor  
**_Slip out the back before they know you were there  
And at the worst you'll see nobody cares  
'Cos you don't wanna be around when it all goes down  
Even heroes know when to be scared  
•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•  
_

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Nine || **Reaper For A Day**

Knowing the route to Concord well enough to avoid concentrating, Tig spent most of the journey with his eyes on Leni via the rear-view mirror. Juice was in the passenger seat, yapping about something to her and Half-Sack who were riding in the back. He had no idea what they were talking about, he couldn't tune in to their voices; too lost in his own thoughts but she was laughing and smiling.

It seemed wrong for her to be so relaxed with what she was about to do; but there she was, giggling away in that blond wig. Wearing the cleverly crafted fake scar and those black framed glasses, that changed her face so much and gave her something to hide behind. Seeing her in the disguise she wore, made it seem as if she might actually pull it all off, but he wouldn't believe it until they saw a death certificate and statement from the cop on watch.

_Damn!_ He wanted to fuck her! She looked so darkly at ease. The way she tipped her head back to laugh that dirty laugh of hers. The way she was sitting in the back seat with one leg folded under her butt while she hugged her other knee to her chest. She looked like they were on a road trip to the beach, not on route to commit capital murder. It seemed almost callous for her to look so relaxed and unsurprisingly, that made him want her more.

It showed she was capable of dark things and the devil inside him was aroused. He'd never met a woman who'd done the same things as him before. He knew plenty of skanks who liked to cat fight and would stab someone in the head with a stiletto if they were pushed, but he'd never met a woman who killed for sense of duty more than survival. He'd certainly never met a woman who appeared to be so indifferent about it.

However, the longer he stared at her - the more he started to noticed cracks in her façade. His eyes caught on her hands and something which gave her away - _a tell_. She was still laughing and chatting so no one would have though to question her confidence, but suddenly he could see through it.

She was giving herself away to his keen eyes. Tapping her fingers against her leg; in an odd pattern. Five pats from the left ring finger then another five from her index, before tapping all five tips against her leg four times and repeating it all over again from the start. Some kind of weird OCD type "tick". A subtle way for her anxiety to escape. A tiny crack in the mask she wore; revealing the true vulnerability behind it.

Silently shocked by what he saw, he realized that she was in fact really nervous and his heart clenched for her. Seeing something in her behavior that he was familiar with inside himself. He was a past-master at fooling people around him into thinking he was okay; that he was cold and unaffected by the pain and damage he caused and saw all around him. He was the man everyone went to when death or cruelty was required and he was proud of his reputation but it scarred him inside.

The goodness in him screamed, demanding that he stop the car and put an end to it all. To protect her from having to do such a sinister duty for _his_ club. Yelling at him, trying to make him understand that there was a connection between them. A way that they could be so much more to each other than the enemies they seemed to be; but he didn't want to hear it. She was evil -a temptress- the devil in disguise.

So what if she was nervous? He would be too! _Hell_, Charles Manson was probably nervous on his way to commit murder, didn't make him worthy of sympathy - did it? _Fuck her!_

He clamped down his misgivings and tried hard to make himself believe he didn't give a shit and wanted nothing from her; other than what was between her legs. Fuck her brains out, make her respect the man he was and kick her ass back to Sacramento. _Yeah! That's what he was going to do!_

He didn't give a shit if she was worried or hurting; _why should he care?_ She offered to do the job, no one asked her to. He wasn't the type of man who rescued someone from themselves. Especially some bitch who walked around like she was the bravest and craziest bitch since Joan of Arc.

She showed him no compassion or understanding; so why should he do her the courtesy? She'd chosen to put herself on that path, offered to do SAMCRO's dirty work. If she couldn't go through with it, her failure would only serve to prove Tig's point about her. It would show that she was weak, and that she couldn't be trusted. Then she would be out of his life and gone from his club. Which would allow him to his mind off her and go back to how things were before she showed up and took over. _'That's what you want right?' _The voice in his head asked mockingly, but the answer wasn't as clear as he hoped.

•••••••••••••••••••

On arriving in Concord it took just a few minutes to navigate the streets and find the right spot to let Juice out. He had plotted it all out with Leni, via an online mapping program. Choosing a spot near a main road, just north of the hospital. A place where he could duck through a patch of wasteland and keep watch on the orchestrated events in the car park from a safe distance away.

Once Juice was out of the car, Half-Sack instructed Tig to take certain roads that lead to a service alley, half a block from the hospital where they would let Leni out, and pick him up later. As Tig pulled to a stop, a nervous Half-Sack wished Leni luck. She thanked him with a smile as she finished checking the make-up on her tattoos and scar before slipping off the hoodie she wore a switching it for a lab-coat and fixing the fake ID badge.

Tig didn't acknowledge her; he had nothing to say. He just watched in the rear-view as she readied herself, until their gaze locked in the reflection of the rear-view mirror. He was floored by what he saw in her eyes - apprehension, anger, excitement, cruel intent. But strongest of all, he saw _fear._

His mouth opened to speak but before he could find words, she had slipped out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Taking off down the alleyway to where danger and darkness were waiting.

As he watched her disappear and he felt worry tightening his stomach. Why the hell he wanted to stop her - he didn't know. She was a devious, _cold_ bitch. The one who'd cooked up the whole elaborate plan. The one who had stood up claiming no qualms in killing someone - but then he wasn't any different.

She was doing something to help protect SAMCRO -regardless of her motives- she was doing _his _job. Wiping away the last of a smudge that tarnished the reaper. Completing a job that had been left half-finished; helping to defuse the bomb that threatened to explode and take out all that he held dear. He hated that she had taken on the task for so many different reasons but seeing her eyes like that had pushed only one up the surface - _guilt!_

He had seen the fear in her eyes and it chilled him. He wanted to run after her, stop her from killing another part of herself for the sake of a motorcycle club - something he knew so well. His limbs stung as he forced himself to stay put, resisting the need to go to her. Pin her down, kiss her and tell her it was okay; tell her that he'd do it for her. Save her from the darkness she was walking into _again,_ but he wouldn't allow himself to do it. _Fuck her! _

She'd made the bed, he wasn't going to lie down in it for her.

•••••••••••••••••••

Leni managed to sneak onto hospital grounds through the staff car park. Ducking into the hospital via a side entrance the boys had scoped out for her the day before. She swept into a stairwell and hurried up to the second floor, keen to avoid any eyes who might have the authority to question who she really was.

She ducked into the visitor's toilets, checked herself over in the mirror; making sure the make-up on her scar and tattoos was still holding up before locking herself safely away in a cubical. Where she would nervously wait for word on the world outside.

Her heart was threatening to pound out of her chest. It had been a while since she'd killed someone outside of combat. They called it _'cold blood'_ - when the heat of the moment had passed and you thought through your actions before reacting. Leni wasn't sure if anyone could call what she was about to do _'cold blood'_, since she'd never actually been in the heated moment of trying to kill this guy in the first place.

It was an assassination and she knew it. Not her first -maybe not her last- but it would be another one that would haunt her on dark nights, when her shell wasn't hard enough to keep the ghosts out. Nights when she hadn't had enough to drink to knock her out until the morning light hid her sins again.

Kill one person -accident or otherwise- it would scar and haunt you in the worst way. Slay a second and the scars would bond together and eat away at you forever; slowly destroying the good - the _light_- parts of you. The stolen life burning it's shadow onto your soul, where it would be carried forever.

One death or one hundred, it would mark you and your conscience with indelible ink. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, or justify it; the guilt would eventually catch up to you - especially in the night. She knew she was already tarnished beyond hope. All the things she'd seen and done in the name of her club - _her family_. What harm would taking one more soul do?

"Juice for Leni, over." A voice in her ear said and her mind shut down her emotions and her thoughts. Focusing herself only on the job she had to do. Booting up the robotic part of her mind that was crafted by the dark world she lived in. The part of her that was professional -callous- and took no prisoners when it came to survival.

"Go Juice!" She replied.

"Security just arrived, over."

Leni smiled to herself, thinking it was cute how he said _'over' _unnecessarily. "Thanks man." Her voice was tight as she fought to contain her emotions. For all she knew it might be the last time she ever spoke to him. There was a heavy possibility it could all go horribly wrong for her. She was out on a limb and silently praying that karma wasn't coming to bring her to justice today.

"Sack? Move on the girls." She said to herself, hoping like hell that the prospect heard her through the ear-piece he wore where he waited down on the ground floor. Envisioning him giving the nod to the hookers to start scrapping.

She bit her lip and willed him to come through for her as she stepped out of the cubical and exited the bathroom into the hospital corridor, before she could hear the voice of reason. She hoped her timing was right to have the fight in full swing for when the cop arrived. Fates willing, it would be enough to keep him busy.

With a deep breath -that didn't soothe her as much as she hoped- she began her act. She hurried up the staircase to the next floor, rushing through the double doors with a purpose. Hurrying towards the wiry blond cop who sat expressionless on the seat outside the victims door at the far end of the corridor. Busy reading some kind of Rev-Head magazine, trying to pass the time. She hoped that he'd be keen to chase some excitement; he certainly looked bored to death.

"Officer! Officer!" She called, forming her words clearly and with a cadence she never used in her daily life. The cop turned, a frown on his face. "Thank God!" She sighed. "There are two women in the ER about to kill each other."

"Call security!"

"We tried. They're tied up with something in the car park." She told, hoping she was pulling off her act. "I need you to come. I really fear for my staff, it was getting quite violent." She said with doe eyes. Noticing the police officer was already eyeballing her scar. "We've had two attacks on ER nurses in the last few weeks..." That was no lie, Juice had discovered details during his research. "...Could you _please_ come and help?"

"Listen...I..." His hesitation told her she'd struck the right chord; the police officer wanted to assist. His civic duty and humanity couldn't allow him to refuse a damsel in distress when she called to him. "...I can't leave my post."

"Oh Lord." Leni gave a sigh, leaving a few beats to make it seem that she was thinking. "Could I wait here on your behalf?...It won't take you long to calm things down..." The officer looked at the ID badge clipped to Leni's jacket. There was not a single thought in his head that questioned if she was anything other than a doctor in need of assistance.

An few moments passed while he thought about the situation, and Leni silently willed him to give in to her. Knowing everything fringed on getting him away from the door. If she failed now, it would all be over before it really began.

"_Alright!_" He caved and Leni smiled inside. "The ER you said?"

"Yes! If you take the elevator down to the ground floor, you will come out right in front of the entrance." The cop agreed and with that, he was off. Jogging to the elevator doors at the far end of the corridor - knowing the quicker he left, the quicker he'd be back on watch.

She took a seat where the cop had previously been waiting. Crossing one leg over the other, placing her hands on her knee and watching as he turned back to check on her as the elevator came up to their floor. She gave him a smile with the perfect amount of hope and concern; further convincing him of her legitimacy.

As soon as he turned away, her eyes darkened. Keeping watch until he stepped inside and the doors closed behind him. She held herself down, waiting as patiently as she could while the red numbers above the silver doors clicked down to the ground floor.

Then, quickly - she reached into her pocket and took out a pair of latex gloves. She slipped them on and reached out a hand behind her and pushed the door handle down. She wasn't expecting it to be locked -knowing hospitals didn't allow for the locking of doors with comatose patients, in case of emergency- but she still felt a small wave of relief wash over her.

She looked left and right, checking no one was around and stood up. There were cameras at both ends of the corridor, but none that seemed angled well enough to capture her. So she slipped slickly into the room and closed the door behind her.

She looked around quickly and saw nothing out of the ordinary, a typical hospital room. Stark white with muted sunshine sneaking in through the blinds at the window. The only abnormal thing was the soft beige handcuffs that kept the patient under suspicion tied to the bed.

Trying her best not to look at her victim, she picked up the file hanging at the foot of his bed and checked the name. _Louis Miguel_ - sure enough it was a match for who she was sent after and the realization of what she was about to do dawned on her.

Needing a moment to harden herself, she headed over to the window and looked out through the blind slats. It was nothing but a straight drop; three stories down to the ground. If the cop came back, there would be no way out; she had to work fast.

She breathed in deep and turned back to the bed. Her mark was asleep, with a number of machines wired up to him, beeping and chirping away. The restraints keeping him fixed firmly to the bed. She tried hard to push back her hesitation, knowing she really needed to hurry up and get it over with.

Quickly, she moved around to the machines and unplugged them at the wall. The sudden silence caused her mark to stir. She knew the guy was supposed to be dead. For all intents and purposes, he had been for months but now she was the reaper; coming to finally claim him. She tried not to focus on his face, knowing if she saw his eyes they'd come for her in the shadows of night.

She looked down at her hands and saw they were shaking. She clenched them into fists and mentally punched back the trepidation. She'd killed so many times before, without thinking - on pure instinct. Flight or fight; kill or be killed.

She'd taken lives with intent too. Using poison and traps - she knew this was really no different. It was do or die. She couldn't walk away, SAMCRO were relying on her and she needed the faith and insurance this deed would buy her.

There weren't many clubs around willing to help out another, especially a one that was lead by a woman. Those that were willing, she didn't much trust; knowing they likely thought she and her organization would be easily used and abused.

Of course, she wasn't naive enough to think that SAMCRO cared about her; she knew it was only residual loyalty to her father that kept Clay in her corner. She hoped taking care of their Mayan problem would buy her some loyalty of her own from them. Prove that she was a woman of her word and someone willing to do what it took to survive and flourish in their world. She knew it would cost her in the long run -one way or another- but she was left with little choice. She needed SAMCRO on her side and the only way to ensure they would be there, was to take the life in front of her.

Convinced it was her only option, her hands steadied and she reached out. Delicately placing one hand under the Mayan's chin, clamping his mouth closed, so he couldn't call out for help. The shock of her touch caused his eyes to pop open and without another hesitation Leni pinched his nose. Looking away before she caught sight of the fear in his bulging eyes.

He realized what was happening but he was too weak to put up a real fight. His eyes widened as he struggled against Leni's latex covered hands, feeling the air rapidly dissolving in his lungs. The oxygen in his blood quickly running out as his jaw and head tried to wrestle free from her grip. The veins in his neck and head straining with pressure as he suffocated under her hands.

She closed her eyes tight and willed him away; begged him to let go of the thread he clung to. She could be colder than ice when she wanted, but feeling life fade away in her bare hands made her feel so much darkness. Bringing back too many memories of things she'd been running from for years. The first mistake she'd made so long ago; the first life she'd taken - an event that had changed the course of her life and lead to her standing where she was today.

It took all her strength to push back her emotions and the haunting memories, and keep her mark pinned to the bed. Trying to remind herself about what Clay said; how he was a bad man. A dangerous and cruel human being, but it only served to prick her conscience. She knew she wasn't the one who had the right to decide if he should live or die. The man had fought to overcome the coma he was in, and yet there she was, her hands covering his nose and mouth; chasing the life out of his veins for good.

Fighting hard to keep her sense of morality at bay, she closed her eyes tight and listened to the sheets shifting in struggle; feeling it under her hands and through her arms. She started to wonder how much fight he had left in him, when -slowly but surely- his muscles started to relax as the last whispers of life left his body.

She waited for a moment to loosen her grip, then put two fingers to his neck - _no pulse_. She checked his wrist next and there was no sign of life there either. Then, she took a penlight from the pocket of her lab coat and pulled back an eyelid. Flashing the bright light into her victims eyes, trying not to take a mental picture of empty eyes staring at her. She saw no response to the light, which indicated full brain death.

He was gone - _the deed was done._

Without hesitation, she left the room as quickly as she could; not wanting to allow for a moment to think. Glancing to the elevator and seeing no activity at the doors or on the level tracker above them. She took a second to hope that the cop was plenty busy with two bitches scratching each other's eyes out, before she took off for the stairwell again. Flying up a flight of stairs this time, to the level where Half-Sack had found a staff only bathroom and stashed her a change of clothes.

The upper corridor was empty and she scanned the doors for the one she needed. Quickly slipping inside to the pale blue room and locking the door behind her. Her hands were sweating under the latex gloves but she knew she couldn't take them off until she was done.

Letting out a breath she'd been holding in since leaving the Mayan's room, she quickly moved over to a small sink unit. Crouching down to remove a loose panel in the lower half of the counter. Quickly locating the large, brown paper bag that Half-Sack had stashed for her there.

Desperate to get out of there, she pulled out the clothing and hurried to take off her lab coat and scrubs top, revealing a slim fitting gray Henley underneath. She kicked off her white slip-on shoes and dropped a pair of Chuck Taylors on the floor. Quickly replacing the green cotton pants with a pair of dark blue jeans before shoving her feet inside the chucks. She took off the ID card clipped to her jacket and dropped it on the counter before she stuffed her scrubs into the blue plastic bag in the corner full with other hospital staff laundry.

Then, she ripped her ID card off her jacket and took out the knife from her jeans, slitting along the plastic and using the tip to open up the casing to cut out the incriminating evidence inside. It was only paper with her disguised face and fake name, but she knew if anyone found it - it could be used as evidence.

She tore up the paper into tiny pieces and rinsed it away down the sink before dropping the plastic remains of the ID badge into the brown paper bag.

Confident she did have to worry about finger prints anymore, she removed her gloves and thoroughly washed and dried her hands before popping out the contact lenses and flushing them down the drain with plenty of water. Next, she peeled off the false scar on the side of her face. Took some paper towels, wet them and scrubbed off the residual latex and make-up on her face and arms before whipping off her wig and hair-net. She separated the two parts and stuffed the blond hair into the brown bag before scraping up her own dark brown locks into a ponytail.

She tried not to notice how hard her heart was pounding as she gathered up the hair-net and everything else that may have contained a trace of DNA and slipped into a toilet cubical to flush it all away. Finally, she took a quick look around -relieved all incriminating evidence was removed- she rolled up the bag with the bits and pieces that she couldn't wash away and stuffed it back under the sink and replaced the panel firmly; hiding it where she hoped it would never be found. Then she took another piece of paper towel and speedily wiped over all the surfaces she'd touched, making absolutely sure _all_ traces of herself were gone.

As she straightened up, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. A face she knew so well stared back at her but she couldn't look herself in the eye. She forced herself to cast the guilt away -knowing there would be plenty of time to feel it later- and hurried to unlock the bathroom door where she peeked out.

It was still empty, no voices, no footsteps; just silence. Afraid of relaxing too soon, she quickly ducked back in and hurried over to the window. Covering her hands with the long sleeves of her top, she eased the handle open and climbed up onto the sill to slip out through the gap. Reaching for the drain pipe that ran alongside the window, praying it would hold her as she clutched onto it, using it as a stepping stone to get her across to where a rickety metal fire escape was located.

She checked around, to make extra certain that there were no cameras or eyes watching and once satisfied she was in the clear she made her move; racing down the metal fire escape and into a loading bay where the hospital received its food stocks and janitorial supplies.

She kept close to the wall and crept into the side car-park where the tan Ford Taurus was idling. She hurried over, popped the door and jumped in. Locking the world out and the silence in. She breathed deep -relieved for a moment- but then she felt eyes on her and a light groan came to her throat. She'd forgotten that Tig was behind the wheel. She'd been too stressed to think of him and all the power he'd held over her. It was hard to believe that he was actually waiting there for her.

"He dead?" He asked flatly. She was sitting beside him, but he only looked at her through the reflection of the rear-view mirror. Using it as a veil to try and avoid feeling any direct connection with her.

"As disco!" Leni confirmed. Giving him a sideways glance, with cold eyes. Her emotions, fears and concerns were momentarily silent. She felt empty inside -dead- but she knew it wouldn't last. The desolate space inside would be filled with her demons again in no time.

"Good!" Tig replied and put the car in drive and peeled out of the lot.

She didn't know what exactly it was this time; or where it came from but something had popped up inside her, suddenly filling her with the desire to stir things; poke the bear. "No..._'Gee! Thanks Leni! You really helped us out of a tight spot?'_..."

"I didn't ask for your help!" He growled, in no mood for her sassy attitude.

Leni looked at him with narrowed, provoking eyes. "If you'd double tapped 'em all in the first place - like you're supposed to...you wouldn't have needed it _either_!"

Her words took Tig back and his eyes flared with anger. Not only was she questioning his abilities but she was blaming all this on him! The guilt he'd been burdened while while she was gone, burst wide open; sending his emotions into a tail spin.

He moved his mouth to speak but no words came out, guilt had blocked his throat. She was cleaning up after a mess _he_ should have never let happen, or at very least taken care of months ago. His mind flashed back to the fear in her eyes as she got out of the car and his stomach sank. He'd known all along that she didn't want to commit the crime and he knew he should have stopped her. He should have taken care of it; spared her the damage by taking it on himself.

His jaw tensed, unable to make sense of the morose feelings growing inside him. Maybe it was Donna's death making him go soft but the feeling of guilt was rooting itself deeply inside him, twisting him up. Her words echoing in his head, laying blame for it all at his feet. Starting the beginnings of a fire inside that would slowly burn through him until it reached the dynamite at his core.

Leni gave a soft snort of laughter at the look on his face. Her head and her emotions were all over the place and her mouth was running away from her - she'd done something terrible and she needed confrontation. A punishment; a distraction - anything to stem the flow of guilt that was steadily flowing in to fill her up again.

Truth be told, she was shocked to find him waiting for her. She'd half expected him to bail back to Charming; leaving her high and dry. She knew she should be thanking him but the demon inside was trying to take over. Using the cracks that opened up inside her to escape and run riot.

"I intimidate you, don't I?" She asked; her mouth running away with her.

Tig's face changed instantly, hostility shoving the guilt he felt to one side to take center stage. "A little cockteaser like you?" He growled. "_Nah_, sorry princess!" He wasn't intimidated by her! He wasn't intimidated by _anybody._ Fuckin' sassy bitch! He should have cut out on her while he had the chance. He knew he should have listened to the voice in his head that told him to fuck her over, but the loyalty to his club had won out. Knowing how much power she'd have over all his brothers if she chose to sing about all she'd learned.

She grinned cruelly; as a tiny part of her warned of the implications from her words of blame; but she failed to acknowledge it. Sure, he'd done her a favor by sticking around -like he was supposed to- but it didn't mean she had to like him for it. And it certainly wasn't enough to snuff out the fires of hostility and challenge that he lit inside her.

"Now..." He continued, trying to ignore the mixture of emotions storming inside him in favor of bitter smugness and chauvinism. Knowing from past experience it would likely shoot her down. "How about you use that smart mouth for something other than yappin'?" He said gesturing to his crotch. "...It ain't gonna suck itself."

Leni rolled her eyes away from him, unsurprised that he had to lower things down to sexual advances but she wasn't going to sink to that level. "And they say chivalry is dead..." Leni mused. She knew he had more to him than crudeness but if he wanted to be that way - he could do it alone.

With men like him, not taking that kind of bait hurt more than anything she could come back at him with. She decided callously that he'd keep for later, and she let it go. Ignoring him as she turned in her seat; rising a little as she reached over the back to grab her bag and hoodie.

Tig's head turned to watch, tilting in lustful thought. The curve of her butt was merely inches away from his face, causing desire to take the microphone inside his head.

The urge to reach out and grab it -bite it- was almost too much. Heat swelling from his crotch through his chest -chasing away the deeper emotions he felt- as she wiggled around. His aggravated mind was drifting away -almost out of his grasp- when she suddenly dropped back into the seat. Kicking her feet up on the dash, pulling out a pack of smokes and her Ipod. Plugging her ears and turning her head out of the window.

He narrowed his eyes at her venomously, his emotions flipped again. The bitch was bi-polar or something. One minute she was poking him with bitchiness; the next she was giving him the cold shoulder. He struggled to understand women at the best of times but she seemed to be re-writing _everything_ he thought he knew.

Crazy bitch didn't seem to know her own mind, so there was no way in hell he could ever hope to figure her out! Not that he cared to, of course. He wanted her gone, her and the all shit she made him feel. The blame she cast, the guilt she stirred in him, the anger, the lust, the curiosity - _everything!_

He didn't need it, he didn't want it and he sure as hell didn't like it. She needed to get away from him before the fire inside exploded and burned the two of them down to ashes.

**A/N:** I hope that's set up the next chapter well enough; there's trouble ahead. If you'd like to read more, please let me know!

•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

**So, below are a few questions that keep popping up in the communication I have with some of my readers. There are no real spoilers, so they're safe to read if you're interested/curious. **

1) Will Gemma feature more in later chapters?** Yes. There will be lots more appearances from Gemma, later on in the story. She plays a big part in what I have planned for Tig and Leni. **

2) Will we see more of Leni's involvement with her own club and the other OC's?** Yes, absolutely! Now she's helped SAMCRO with their little problem, there will be more focus on her "presidential" duties and finding out who is behind the attacks on her club and what criminal activities they're involved in. **

3) When will Tig and Leni give in and hook up with each other?** Well, that would be ruining the surprise now, wouldn't it? Haha! It's going to take a while before their relationship truly takes any turn in that direction. I'm not a fan of rushing these things. It would be an injustice to both characters to make it happen too fast, I think they need to earn each other's trust **_**and **_**respect first...but trust me, the journey will be a good one with lots of drama, humour and "close calls" along the way! *winks knowingly* **

4) Will Leni unleash her inner demons on Tig? **Leni's darkside will come to the surface to some degree throughout the coming chapters. Will Tig get the sharp end? **_**Maybe!**_** There may also come a time when she makes him and Happy look vanilla, but I'm still working out the kinks on that!  
**

5) Can you update more often?** I probably could **_**but**_** I like to re-read/edit, read and edit some more, then discuss with my beta and reread/edit again at least once more before I post, to be sure I've improved the chapter as best I can from its first draft. So that takes time, especially with real life rearing its ugly head to get in the way. Also, I like to have several chapters in hand because I never want to get to a point where I think "Shit! I should have mentioned that six chapters ago..." I'm currently five full chapters ahead of what you are reading now (and literally 184 pages ahead in ideas/scenes and chapter outlines haha!) So please bare with me, I will do my best to update as frequently as possible and for as long as you guys remain interested. **

6) Is Shithead a real game? **Yes, it is! A friend of mine taught it to me while I was in college and he'd actually learned it from a couple of old biker dudes he'd met while backpacking in Europe (so I thought it was pretty fitting for the story) The magic card numbers are sometimes different but they always do the same things and it can be adapted to play for money, but it's a lot harder to follow and not as much fun! **

7) Who do you picture playing your OC's?** Honestly, I don't know but I will work on finding some faces and I'll put them up on my profile here if I find anyone fitting. **

8) Will Opie make an appearance in the story? **Yes! He will return from his walkabout eventually. I like Opie, so I'm looking forward to bringing him into my story.**

9) Will the story catch up to the events of the show?** Yes, no and maybe...I know exactly what's going to happen in this story, and it **_**could**_** fit with what happened in season two (onwards) of the show but I'm not really a fan of stories that fit an OC into canon scenes but we'll see how I can work it as the story develops (sometimes the characters run away with me) After re-watching the show, making notes and a few calculations (yeah, I'm a bit weird like that!) I figure there are about nine months unaccounted for in the early SOA timeline, which is more than enough to play out my little tale before bringing in the events of season two. **

_If anyone has anything else they are curious about, please let me know in comments or PM's! I'm more than happy to answer any questions, if you have them! _


	11. Chapter 10: Nemesis

Big thanks to everyone who left me reviews on the last chapter, your feedback means a lot to me, please keep it coming! I love to hear what you think, be it good or bad!

For those of you who follow the music links in my profile, please note (because the list was getting really long) I've moved all the songs to a specific Tumblr page, where you can still find the Youtube links and now also an interactive music player. The link to the page is on my profile and I will keep updating to coincide with new chapter postings.

**For Maria**, who asked if Leni's past and the meaning of the tags on her kutte would be addressed/revealed soon. All I can really say is yes, _eventually_. I plan to explain what "Breaking Wheel" means probably around chapter sixteen, so bare with me. Tig might get up the courage to ask her what the other tag and badges mean at some point too, so I won't ruin it. But all the little details I put down like that, will be revealed eventually. Including more details about her past with her ex-husband, the prison guard and what not. Thanks for your question Maria, glad you're enjoying the story!

**WickedlyMinx** asked for a dream sequence...coincidentally, this was already written and although it's not quite what you asked for, I hope this chapter is a little bit of what you wanted and a glimpse into the possible future! ;o) Thanks for reviewing, I hope you enjoy the update.

Please be warned there is a bad word used in this chapter, a word that some people are sensitive about. But as my incredible beta -Katia- said, this is a story about an outlaw motorcycle club, _not _croquet at a country club!

**•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•**

**Bad Romance by Thirty Seconds To Mars **

_I want your psycho,  
Your vertigo kiss,  
I want you in my bed,  
I'll make you sick,  
I want your love,  
Love-love-love.  
I want your loving,  
And I want your revenge,  
You and me could write a bad romance._

**A/N: **_**Warning for very naughty words and scenes of a sexual nature. If you're underage, the time to leave is now.**_

**Wicked Games **|| Chapter Ten || **Nemesis **

After stopping in a safe place a few miles from the hospital, to pay the hookers and thank the Saints that worked the car park - the hour long drive back to Charming was uncomfortable to say the least. The relief Leni felt when Tig finally killed the engine on the Teller-Morrow lot, was almost overwhelming.

Instantly, she burst out of the passenger door with Juice and Half-Sack doing the same in her wake. She headed straight for the clubhouse, without looking back. She had business of her own to check up on and she needed something to take her mind away from the evil deeds of the afternoon.

Tig remained in the car, with tension all across his shoulders. Watching her through narrowed eyes as she strutted her way inside _his_ home. He didn't want to go in and watch how she'd be flavor of the week for what she'd just done. The thought of everyone singing her praises and showing their gratitude made his blood boil. He had hoped that she'd do something to fall out of favor with the club; however it now seemed that she'd be forever carved into their good books. That filled him with more confusion and animosity; making the dark voices in his head list their demands for the settling of scores.

The bitch was cunning, bold and he hated it. He hated her for making him feel guilt and anger, regret and remorse; especially over business with a Goddamn Mayan. Making him question his own integrity when it came to what he loved the most - _the club_. She was nothing to him -_a nobody_- but her words of blame had cut him deep and he could feel his temper building up to dangerous levels.

She was getting inside his head -as well as his brotherhood- twisting up his thoughts, making him feel so many things he didn't want to feel. It felt as if she was reading his mind, getting inside his unconscious. Opening up boxes he'd sealed shut, full of things he didn't want to admit to being capable of feeling. Things he couldn't _afford_ to feel, knowing it would hinder his survival.

How could someone he didn't know -someone he didn't like- get inside him like she did. Say all the right things to make him react. Push all his buttons over and over again. Make him questions his interiority, bringing his thoughts to places he was afraid to step into. He could feel his emotions warring inside, telling him that night he'd be starting fires he might not be able to put out.

•••••••••••••••••••

Leni was disappointed to find the clubhouse was practically deserted. She looked behind her, hoping to see Juice and Half-Sack but they hadn't followed her inside and she guessed they'd gone to see if they were needed at the garage. Feeling the threat of emotion creeping up her back, she swallowed a heavy sigh and pushed on into the building. She really didn't want to be alone. She needed to be around people, noise, banter, laughter. _Anything_ to take her mind off what she'd just done.

She knew Chibs and Happy would be back soon, once her men returned to Sacramento to relieve them. Clay and Jax were nowhere to be seen, but Piney was at the far end of the bar making short work of a bottle of Patrón. He looked up at her with a smile and asked how things went, and Leni confidently assured him it was all done and dusted. Getting a brief, but tender hug as thanks and comfort for what she'd done.

Afraid to get into it with him, she moved away and over to the kitchen where Bobby was baking. She stuck her head in and smiled to see him covered in flour, streaks of butter up his arms and some batter stuck in his beard.

"Need a hand?" She wasn't much of a cook herself, but she was willing to do anything for a distraction.

"For sure!" Bobby nodded warmly. Passing her a baking tray to grease up. "Everything go okay?"

"Yep!...It's all good!" She confirmed and Bobby instantly sensed she didn't want to get into it, so he didn't push.

"Makin' hash-brownies!" He told her with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

"Mighta guessed!" She laughed softly just as shift of atmosphere wafted into the kitchen. They looked to the door and caught sight of Tig as he stormed past, headed for the apartments and the solitude of his room.

Leni felt a flutter of strange feelings dancing through her stomach. She didn't dare look inwardly to try and understand what she felt - she didn't care. He hated her and she felt nothing for him. That was the end of it.

"What's wrong with him?" Bobby asked, knowing it wasn't like Tig not to stop at the bar for a beer or a shot upon his return.

"It'd be quicker to say what's _right_ with him!" Leni scoffed.

Bobby chuckled. "Can't argue with that sweetheart!"

•••••••••••••••••••

After making a few phone calls and business related emails, Leni's was relieved to see that the clubhouse was coming to life again. Most of the Sons were in-house, hanging out and shooting pool. She and Tig made sure to keep their distance from each other, choosing to circle their arena like gladiators.

He made his stand at the bar just as he had the first night she'd spent in Charming. His eyes were fixed firm on her like she would pull a gun any moment, watching as she laughed and joked with his brothers. He'd been drawn to the soothing qualities of whiskey again but tonight it seemed to be bathing his bad attitude and nurturing aggression towards her.

_God he hated her!_ She was worming her way into his world and pulling everyone under her spell. De-constructing what he knew about himself and where he felt secure. Coming in like a whirlwind and spinning everything on its head to focus on her. Seducing everyone into seeing her as some kind of saviour; everyone loved the bitch.

The night before she'd made them all laugh, taught the guys a new game and gave them plenty to talk about; stories to tell. Now, she was the hero of the fucking hour. Saving the club from a lengthy jail sentence - _or worse_.

Something about the way she'd taken charge told Tig she knew exactly what she was doing. Getting the Sons wrapped around her little finger. Reading them, like she read him. Doing and saying all the right things to seduce them into her pocket and insuring she had something over them if she ever needed to assert her dominance. Tig knew exactly what she was; a devious gash who was using his club -_his family_- to her own ends. She hadn't helped them for their benefit, it was for her own and he was the only one who could see it.

_Hell!_ He was surely the only one who still had any sense. She'd bewitched everyone else into believing her _'Little Miss Wonderful'_ act, but she'd shown her true colors by passing the blame to him in the hospital car-park. Highlighting the responsibility he already felt for the situation they'd been in. Making his conscience sting with regret and shame for not taking care of the clubs problems himself.

He hated her for drawing those kind of feelings back to the surface; associating guilt with business. He'd tried so hard to kill that part of him and he thought he'd managed it. Yet ever since he made the mistake that ended Donna's life, things had been whittling away at him and Leni somehow managed to splash kerosene on the flames that were slowly burning away the cold, apathetic mask he wore; releasing unwelcome emotions from the graves he'd buried them in deep inside himself.

He threw back a shot of whiskey and continued to glare. It seemed like no one else took issue with who she was -_what _she was- _or _what she'd done. It was like nothing negative had happened and the sane part of him knew that was to be expected.

Damn near every man in the room had killed on behalf of SAMCRO and he knew how much it meant to do a deed like that for the Reaper. It was an act that only trusted -_patched_- members were tasked with carrying out. Killing for the good of the MC was seen as a positive, a show of good will and respect. How the hell had she managed to walk right in and gain their trust? How the hell had she managed to kill someone so efficiently and heartlessly? Cast the blame for it on him and still manage to have that broken -wounded- look in her eyes.

The demon inside him said she was plotting to get back at him for what he'd said, what he'd done and failed to do. All she had to do was make a point of mentioning how the duty to kill the Mayan really landed with Tig. How by failing to make sure all the witnesses were dead, he put the club in jeopardy. That would probably be more than enough to have doubt cast on him. He knew Clay was already starting to wonder if he'd lost his edge; all she had to do was plant the seed and his days in the club were numbered. He growled inside, trying not to listen to the voice with the darkest explanations and concerns.

His skin felt like he'd been sunburned; hot with anxiety and bitterness. He didn't know how much more he could stand. Watching her cavorting around with his friends, laughing and joking with so much fresh blood on her hands. Acting like nothing had happened, and of course to her it probably hadn't. She made it clear she believed the clubs Mayan problem was his mess; a mess she'd been tasked with cleaning up. She'd passed the blame for not protecting the club and guilt of taking a life so coldly onto him, why should she look any different than she did. Her shoulders were free of burden and worry.

He knew he should have ditched her when he had the chance, called the cops and risked her running her mouth to the feds. They would have found a way out of it, they always did. Worrying about being arrested at that point, felt like it would be a welcome exchange for what currently burned inside him.

She was cunning, and that alone was dangerous. He could see her grip on his club tightening. Weaving herself into the fabric of it all, like creepers from poison ivy. Winding her way around all he knew, ready to choke the life out of it, should she ever need leverage. Maybe turn them all against him for his short comings.

Angrily, he watched on for a while. His mind pulling in a thousand different directions -negativity commanding all his thoughts and feelings- darkening his mood more and more second by second. He noticed Juice wave Clay over to the pool table where the group could chat quietly without the growing crowd hearing. Tig's mood stalled but he didn't move - _he didn't care_. Unless the police were on their way to arrest the bitch and take her the hell out of his life, he wasn't interested!

"I just got the police report!" Juice announced, mindful of the volume of his voice. "He's officially dead but the cop on the door reported suspicious circumstances with a certain blond doctor."

Leni felt her throat tighten for a moment and her eyes pulled over to Tig who sat leaning back against the bar, swigging whiskey from the bottle with a fire in his eyes. She didn't feel safe with him around, especially now. He knew too much and something told her he was just waiting for a chance to pull the rug from under her feet.

"They have no leads but they've got an APB out on a tall, blond woman with...and I quote...a _prominent facial scar_." Juice continued and smiles washed around the circle of faces. "We're in the clear people!" He beamed and a cheer went up.

Leni felt twisted inside but she forced a smile across her face as she was swept up in a sea of arms. The Sons relief was palpable and one hug came after the other. Even Half-Sack was lost in the moment, glad to be a part of the mission to protect the club; hoping it would go towards earning the much sort after top rocker.

The sight of such adulation forced Tig to feel an acid like sensation rise up in the back of his throat. His rage suddenly rebooted as he watched her sign herself into the 'SAMCRO Good Books' with indelible ink. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he didn't need to. It was obvious by the hugs and the banter that she'd got away with it.

Clay put his arm around her and lead her away from the rapidly growing ruckus around the pool table -to just inside the chapel doors- where he could have a quiet word with her.

"You've got a lot on your plate and you made time to help us...We won't forget that." Clay assured her and Leni smiled at him softly, feeling guilt from different sources stinging in her stomach. Her hands and heart still felt cold and heavy from the stain of guilt left behind by the life she'd taken.

Looking at Clay's face, so full of relief and perhaps a strange hint of pride - she felt nauseous. She'd taken the job under the clubs sanction partly as insurance for herself. She had always known she would be the one to pay if anyone ever found out what she'd done. If it ever came to that, she had planned to have SAMCRO break her fall - either with the Mayans or the Feds. Seeing now how her deed had not only bought the men's confidence but also their respect, she felt horrible sensations inside. Remorse for what she'd done and thought about; anxiety about what choices she could be forced to make if anyone ever someone discovered her crime.

Her mind was swept away in a haze of questions and worries as she was pulled from the chapel doorway and into a hug with Jax. Her eyes caught on Tig again and the expression he wore was unreadable. He didn't look happy but he didn't look pissed off either. He just looked thoughtful - dark, but thoughtful. It was unnerving and she knew better than to assume he was re-evaluating his opinion of her. It was more likely that he was concocting a way to dishonor her.

She didn't know it, but her eyes gave her away to Tig and he was drawn in. She smiled and laughed at the thanks that were bestowed on her, but her eyes were empty. He could see she had emotionally checked out and was busily hiding something deep inside, where she hoped to never encounter it again.

Was it guilt for killing a man the way she had? Self-doubt making her wonder if she'd done the right thing? Or shame for something else? Maybe it was even the cogs turning in how to use the situation to her advantage. He couldn't tell for sure, but seeing her be one thing to his brothers, while something else bubbled under her surface, showed him again that she was the devil in disguise.

Feeling his mood darken, Tig turned his back on the group and faced the bar. Looking into his bottle of whiskey for answers as the party behind him kicked up a gear. Leni smiled and laughed in the right places, but she didn't feel like dancing and cheering. The remorse of killing a man was building up inside her, letting all her ghosts escape through the opening wounds inside. The dark was creeping in, despite the company and positive atmosphere.

Somehow the respect and gratitude she was being shown only seemed to magnify the shame she felt festering inside. Long buried memories of evil deeds pulling at her mind, keen to drag her down to a dark place where fought constantly not to sink into.

She didn't know if she wanted to walk away and hide, or stay and party; drink until she couldn't feel feelings anymore. Drinking, fighting and fucking usually soothed any hurt she felt. Finding distraction from internal pain in primal pleasures came naturally to everyone who lived in the gray. Everyone around her was buzzing with relief, not sparing a though for how the threat had been taken down from over their heads and placed on Leni's back instead.

They'd all seen darkness, but now they were seeing light. A black cloud had been lifted from above the club and after going through so much shit, the men needed the respite her action had offered them. She felt a tiny hint of relief with them, knowing that the threat to the club was disarmed and in turn her club could find the support they needed in SAMCRO, but she was scared to consider how much their assistance might cost her in the long run.

She swallowed the hard lump of emotion and accepted a beer Bobby passed to her for a celebratory toast. She smiled dutifully but she could feel her wheels were about to fall off. She had to find a distraction that didn't reek of guilt before she snapped.

•••••••••••••••••••

Unable to stand the merry atmosphere in the clubhouse any longer, Tig moved out into the cool night air. Taking a seat on the picnic table as a few familiars wandered in and out of the building. He took a draw from his cigarette and swished the remaining whiskey around in the bottom of the bottle.

The drink was doing nothing to numb his feelings or silence his thoughts. It seemed to be feeding the devil inside him tonight. So many mixed emotions were dancing around him, hand in hand with the whiskey, preventing him from finding the usual mellow feeling he got from drowning himself in liquor. So much was irritating him about the day -about _her_- he couldn't shut it off or block it out.

He craved a physical distraction -knowing that would effortlessly silence his mind and numb him for a little while at least- but despite the impromptu party, it was slim pickings on pussy inside the clubhouse; Tuesday nights were always quiet. Short of riding to Lodi for a piece of ass he'd have to pay for, the night looked increasingly bleak.

Lifting his head to take another drink of whiskey from the bottle, he noticed a light coming from the gaps around the rolling doors at the front of the garage. A frown of concern drew across his face - he knew everyone was inside the clubhouse partying. Either Piney had left the lights on again or someone was up to no good.

Stubbing out his cigarette he cut across the lot and headed up to the door at the side of the garage, readying to blow up on anyone who was in there screwing around! Without hesitation, he tried the handle and unsurprisingly it gave in his hand - instantly sparking his defenses. Cautiously he pulled it open and found himself bathed in the clinical light and the soft sound of rock music from the radio.

It didn't take his eyes more than a second to find Leni kneeling down besides her bike, fastening her front tire back in place. The jeans she wore rode down a little way, flashing a hint of the black lace panties underneath but Tig was too bitter and resentful to feel the arousal it would usually have caused.

Sensing movement behind her, she looked over her shoulder and her bright blue eyes instantly darkened with a heavy sigh. Seeing Tig stepping inside with that ferocious look on his face was the last thing she needed to see.

"What do you want, Trager?" She growled. Guessing she'd been lucky to avoid confrontation with him for a long as she had.

"What you doin' in here?" His voice was deep with anger as he closed the door. Turning the lock before taking a drink from the bottle - his throat suddenly dry and tight.

"Changin' out a tire. Clay said it was..." He cut her off.

"I don't give a_ fuck_ what Clay said!" His aggressively shot words ricocheted off Leni's armor. Showing no reaction as she tightened the last nut on her tire and reached out for a rag to wipe her hands on.

There was no mistaking he'd found her looking for confrontation, and for survival she had to keep her temper from spiking. She was in no mood for his bullshit. She had escaped to the garage to work on her bike, knowing it was the only place around where she could truly be by herself, away from the craziness of the clubhouse but still with enough distraction from the grim voices inside her head.

"You really think you're somethin' dontchya?" Tig continued, as he prowled around behind her, knocking back more whiskey before putting the bottle down on the workbench. The booze was starting to make his lips loose and his words bitter. The devil inside was cheering him on, pushing him forward to do something crazy. "You might have those idiots fooled, but I know what you are."

"Really?" Leni asked as she stood up; her throat hot as her weak control on her temper began to falter. "And what's that?"

"Well, if today is anythin' to go by...you're a murderer as well a cocky little gash..."

Leni gave a huff of laughter which stabbed at him. "That's rich comin' from you!" As soon as the last word left her mouth, she felt Tig's hand grab her arm, _hard!_ Spinning her around, slamming her back into a tool cabinet. Pain stung her back as the draw handles jabbed into her spine but she didn't show any sign of it on her face.

Again, she'd shifted the blame to him, accusing him -_judging_ _him_- making him feel shitty. "They all think the sun shines out of your pussy but I know who you are..." His eyes were dark and ferocious. "..._I see you!_" He said coldly, pointing his finger in her face.

He knew she was hurting inside -he could feel it- but the whiskey and darkness inside him wanted to see more of it. He wanted revenge for what she was making him feel, he needed it. He needed to punish her, so he knew for sure that she felt as sore as he did.

"You don't have the first clue about me, asshole." She told him defiantly, her jaw tight.

Tig smiled slyly. "I want you gone." His eyes were dangerous -evil almost- but she didn't feel any fear. If he killed her, _oh well!_ It wasn't anything that she hadn't considered doing herself since returning from Concord. She had too much guilt to hold, too many burdens to carry and she was close to running on fumes. Doubting herself and everything around her, desperate for a way out at her lowest point.

"I don't want to be here anymore than you want me here..." She assured him, keeping calm. Although she felt comfortable in the clubhouse, she never wanted to be there; her hand was forced. She wanted to go home but it wasn't safe and now it seemed she wasn't safe there either.

He smirked at how defeated she seemed; feeling no sympathy. Her words of blame going around in his head again. Visions of the club being in awe of her for how she'd come through for them - taking the glory that should have been his.

Since she showed up, he'd been dreaming about getting her alone and vulnerable. How he'd confront her, how he'd challenge her. Find out if she really had what it took to hold her own when there wasn't anyone nearby to rescue her. He'd been waiting for a time that she was alone like this, broken -separated from the pack- and on his territory. He smirked inside; he'd got his wish.

"Not so cocky now, are ya? _Little girl_."

She looked him over, seeing the side of Tig Trager that most people didn't live to tell of, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing he intimidated her.

"I'm not afraid of you." She assured him but something in his eyes did scare her. She'd seen that look before, in the eyes of men who had a thirst for blood and power. She knew all too well what men in their world thought of women. She'd earned the scars to prove -both physical and emotional- she knew firsthand what kind of things men wanted to do to a woman like her. She knew how it would end - _if she let it._

"You should be." He told her; his voice deep and sinister. Placing his large hand on her slim hip, pressing his body into hers; sending a cold chill skittering up her back. His eyes were glowing with fire, fueled by many derivatives of anger and a coating of lust. It made her stomach turn to think of what he was imagining doing to her - _dead or alive_.

"You lookin' to add rape to your repertoire?" She asked boldly, hoping her voice wouldn't crack.

Tig smiled slyly, his mood shifting to the lighter of two dark sides. She _was_ reading his mind. He needed to assert his dominance over her; show his supremacy as man. The easiest, fasted -and most enjoyable- way to do that was sexually.

"It's only rape if she doesn't want it." He said confidently, ignoring the tiny -whimpering- voice of his conscience that cried for him to stop. "And doll?...You want this...It's written all over your face."

Leni looked deep into his eyes and she saw his dark intent. Something about the way he stank of whiskey and rage told her she wasn't going to walk away from this one without attacking him or going along with his game - and her spirit was too low to fight.

The drive and fire inside her had been nothing but embers since arriving back in Charming and yet the spite in his eyes began to blow gently over them, encouraging a small flame to bud and blossom again.

"So let me get this straight..." She pondered, desperately searching inside herself for the strength and confidence she needed. "...You hate me being here, but at the same time, you wanna fuck me..."

Tig smirked. "I'm a complicated man."

"No shit!" She said, feeling him press himself into her firmer.

"See...I know you..." He assured, looking her in the eye. "...I got you_ all_ figured out!" His words were slightly slurred and Leni forced her eyes not to narrow with the anger she felt. "...You're all tough talk around guys...With that _'anythin' you can do, I can do better'_ bullshit...Thinkin' you're a leader of men, _a badass_...when you're just a jumped up little gash who rides her daddy's coat-tails!" He goaded -knowing what buttons to push- but Leni's eyes were still dead - no reaction. None of the fire he was so eager to see to get his kicks.

Inside, her mind calmly reminded her not to react. It was nothing she hadn't heard a hundred times before from men like him. "...Bangin' chicks because no one's man enough to bend you over and show you want you really are...Remind you that _this_..." He shoved his hand roughly between her thighs and cupped her firmly. "...is a _pussy_...not a cock!"

Leni felt a cold shiver ripple from her back to her stomach. Distant yet haunting memories trying to break free, to weaken and control her. "And you think you're the man to do that?" She said, digging deep for confidence.

"I _know_ I am." He purred, moving his hand from between her legs to travel slowly up her torso. The whirlwind of emotions locked up in his chest; his mind twisted with different thoughts. Inside his conscience desperately pleaded for him to stop, but was held back by the devil and demon who were trying to take the wheel and claim dominion over him.

Full of need for release and compensation for what she was making him suffer, he moved his mouth to hers but she turned her head away sharply,yet she kept her blue eyes on his.

"I don't kiss on the mouth." She told him flatly.

"_What?_" He laughed, tilting his head to the side with confusion. A surprised for a second until he recalled the night she'd taken the Croweater to her room. She'd tried to kiss Leni but she'd stepped off before their lips met.

In the seconds it took for the memory to play out in his mind, Leni kept quiet. Her mind scurrying desperately to find herself a way out of the fix she was in.

"Well...I hope you use that pretty mouth for other things?" He rasped, raising his hand to cup her cheek; bringing her head front to face him as he roughly ran a thumb over her full bottom lip. Lust alive and sparkling in his eyes as he imagined the way her lips would feel on his. The ways he could violate her mouth, take his rewards for so much suffering.

"You want me to show you?" She purred, pressing her own body back against him. Giving the impression she was along for the ride.

Tig gave a smile that bordered on a smirk; surprised by her reaction. The look in her eyes that told him she was giving into him -_finally_- and it filled him with arrogance. "You need to ask?" He growled, unable to believe this was actually going to happen. He'd been longing for this moment for days, desperate for a chance to let out the frustrations she caused. An opportunity to put her in her place, test the power she supposedly had in the best way possible.

Leni saw the desire come through in his eyes and take complete control over his aggression and eagerness to break her. She knew he wanted to make her pay whatever debt he'd charged her with, but his downstairs brain was more powerful. Making his hunger for her surface and dominate him. That gave her the upper hand and she knew there was no time to hesitate.

She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and kutte, guiding him back with her body. Switching control so he was pinned up against the workbench besides the tool cabinet. His eyes were dark and needy as he looked over her pretty face with the eyes of a starving man. Thinking how beautiful and seductive she was as she took him over; the touch of her body against his filling him with all-consuming warmth.

She swept into him, her full breasts pressing up against his chest as she placed a soft kiss on his jaw, just to the side of his mouth. He felt the heat rush through him and his conscious mind went into standby mode; just as it did two nights ago when she'd kissed him after mesmerizing him with her dance.

He was instantly covered by a blanket of lust as her hands began to run down his torso to his belt. Tig felt all the hairs on the back of his neck go up, as she moved close and began to kiss along his jaw line to his ear. Her teasing finger tips caressing his lower abdomen through his black cotton shirt.

He couldn't believe this was actually happening! He was going to get his dick sucked, maybe more! By her; the woman who lead a motorcycle club! Arguable the most powerful bitch in Northern California, was about to be on her knees with his dick in her mouth. The thrill of the mere thought was almost too much, which told him the actual act would blow his mind.

"You've been thinkin' about this since the moment we met, haven't you?" She said against his ear as her hand slid under his shirt. Feeling the firm flesh as she walked her hands up -a dusting of soft hairs tickling between her fingers- filling him to the brim with desire. His breathing deepened as she rocked her pelvis so her lower body rubbed against the growth in his jeans.

Slowly she eased her head back, their eyes locking as she began to move just a little, to allow her to kiss the other side of his face. Delicate kisses with her soft lips running along his jaw, brushing against his sensitive neck teasingly as she moved up to his ear. His hands began to roam under her t-shirt; the pads of his fingers slightly rough against her silky skin.

"What do you want to do to me?" She purred, kissing his earlobe as he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and bit down. She hadn't even touched his dick yet but he felt like he'd explode in her hand as soon as she did. "I'm not like one of those skanks in the clubhouse, Trager." She told him softly, caressing his torso as she kissed his neck; driving him wild. "If I let you fuck me, you better know how to please me."

For a moment, he struggled to find his voice. Swallowing hard before gruffly replying. "Baby...I'll make you cum so hard, it'll put you in a coma!" He said confidently, with a smug tilt of his head.

Leni leaned back a little to look him in the eye, her tongue running over her lips to moisten them before she smirked. "Oooooh..." She purred, making her lips form a seductive O shape. "Promises, _promises_." His words had caused tingles to develop between her thighs - her body was betraying her. She couldn't deny he looked sexy and part of her liked the warmth of his body against hers, the way his skin felt under her lips. But she couldn't let it happen. He needed to be taught a lesson about women -_about her_- once and for all.

Knowing she had to end the game fast -before she lost control of herself- she put her hands on his belt. Seductively keeping her eyes on his as she slowly sank down in front of him. Tig's eyes rolled back, unable to believe that he was finally going to get the satisfaction he'd been craving since she rode into the lot five days ago.

She could tell he was almost lost under the veil of arousal and making sure he drifted further, she began to run her hands up and down his denim clad thighs. Firm and strong under her light, teasing hands. Her touch sending a million tiny sparkles racing straight to his cock, that strained angrily against the zipper of his jeans.

She looked up but saw his head was relaxed back, his eyes closed, ready for the pleasure she was going to give him. Quickly, she glanced around. She saw a screw driver and a wealth of tools she could use as weaponry but she didn't want to injury him. She _did _however, want to bruise his ego.

Her hands kept busy, caressing him as she looked around. Worry that she'd made a mistake and backed herself into a corner began to creep up her back and curl over her shoulders, just as her eyes caught on something hanging from the handle of one of the draws on the tool cabinet next to her.

A large zip tie. Fastened loosely to the chrome handle to make it easier -and cleaner- for mechanics to open the cabinet draws with their greasy hands. It would be close, but it seemed wide enough to get his hand through, and that's all she'd need.

Biting her lip, trying to force the doubt inside her away, she began to unbuckle Tig's belt. He let out a faint groan as she released a tiny bit of the pressure building across his abdomen. He was aching for her touch and she could feel it in the way his muscles tensed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so turned on and desperate. Just how the hell she was driving him so crazy with barely a touch was beyond him, but he loved it.

His hands gripped onto the edge of the workbench, trying to hold himself in place as she parted the leather strap. Coming in close to softly kiss his lower abdomen, unknowingly trapping a growl in his throat. It felt so good he could hardly bare it. Every ounce of control he had, worked to keep his desire for her in check as she teased him. Slowly unzipping his jeans, releasing the tension across his aching cock.

Teasingly she began to run her hands up his torso again, making every muscle in his body tense with need, before stroking down to his thighs and back up again. Taking a second to carefully undo the clip that held his knife to his leg and kept her from lowering his jeans.

_'Damn this bitch knows what she's doin'!' _He thought to himself, he could already feel the prelude to his climax and she'd only unzipped his jeans.

He tried to think of un-sexy things, but he couldn't find a thread of thought; his mind had shut down, just as it always did with the promise of pussy. Her delicate fingers and soft lips worked back across his pelvis. It felt so good and the devil inside wanted to grab her by the hair, thrust himself into her mouth and fuck her face until she had tears in her eyes. His restraint was weak but he managed to hold himself back. Knowing that the sweet torture she bestowed on him felt so much better than quick, aggressive gratification would.

Leni's eyes checked out the distance between Tig's hand and the plastic tie. A voice in her head screamed at her, begged her not to do it. Told her that if she broke her own rule and let Tig have his way with her, it would be the best decision she'd ever made. But she knew he couldn't be trusted and the anger in her gut had the controlling say - she needed to educate. Show him she wasn't to be fucked with. Put him in his place and end the bullshit between them once and for all.

Her hands caressed him, firmer. Working all the tension in his legs and torso into his crotch, before carefully slipping her finger inside the loose waistband of his jeans and pushing them down to pool at his feet. The faintest gasp escaped his lips, anticipation of her finally releasing his throbbing cock so she could begin her attack on it.

His mind was racing away, as he stood there in his snug black boxers - his body filled with the thrill of anticipation and completely under her control as he felt the heat of hunger filling his body. Flashes of what his mind plotted to do to her played on the back of his eyelids; the way he'd touch her. How deep he'd kiss her, how hard he'd fuck her - until she begged him to stop.

Her hands blissfully stroked his hips, moving down to what he so desperately wanted her to have at his center. He was lost in her touch and the magic she was weaving. Pulled so deep under her spell that he barely held on to the reality of the world around him.

He was completely lost in lust, when she abruptly grabbed his hand and pulled it out to the side. A sudden pinch stung around the joint of his wrist, caused by something thin, cold and hard digging into it.

His eyes snapped open and he looked down at her, a cold blast of reality hitting him. She was smiling up at him wickedly.

His eyes shot to the tool cabinet, seeing the thin, black plastic strap wrapped around his wrist just below his bracer; so tight it was turning his hand white. Lust and panic began to riot inside him, making it impossible for him to formulate a coherent thought or a sentence as he watched her free his knife from the sheath attached to his belt.

Blinking; trying to shake off the daze and make sense of what was going on. His eyes went to his hand again, seeing it _still_ tied to the handle of the tool chest draw. The sudden clatter of his knife being tossed to the other side of the garage made realization of what was happening dawn on him.

He cast his eyes to her angrily, where she was leaning back against the auto-lift, her thumbs hooked into the belt loop of her jeans. Looking at him with so much wickedness in her eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but he wasn't quick enough and her voice cut in.

"Let's get this straight..." She growled, watching as he squirmed and struggled to get free. The cabinet was too heavy and locked to the spot. His panicked eyes fixed on her and she continued. "...You don't know a Goddamn thing about me..."

"You fuckin' bitch!" Tig barked, his free arm reaching out to choke her but falling several inches too short. It was all happening so fast, he didn't have time to think logically. He just wanted to get at her; kill her.

Leni remained stoic for a beat -her eyes briefly glancing to his grabbing finger tips just inches away from her face- before she pounced.

He didn't have a second to react before she was on him. Her slender body slamming hard against his; pushing all her body weight in to pin him against the work bench. Trapping his free hand between his ass and the edge of the surface. She wasn't anywhere near as big as him, but her body felt unnaturally heavy and strong pinned against his. The weight of her anger and intent, filling her, making her bigger and stronger. More powerful than he realized she could become.

He went to speak but she clamped her hand firmly over his mouth. Turning the tables and lifting her shoulders to stand at her full height, allowing her to glare right into his eyes. Her stare was so full of venom and controlled rage, like nothing he'd ever seen from a woman before.

"And for the record..." She continued and he felt himself give up the fight for just a moment, as the look in her hypnotising -yet crazed- eyes took temporary control. "...I wouldn't fuck you with someone else's pussy!" Her eyes fixed firmly on his as she planted a hard kiss on the back of her hand, before releasing it from over his mouth and quickly moving away.

As soon as her warmth was pulled away from him again, an anger -with the feel of ice but the power of fire- rushed into claim him. "You fuckin' whore!" He barked; pulling at his hand frantically trying to get free. Unable to look away from her as she strutted to the garage door and pushed it open. Turning back for a second long enough to flash him an evil smile, before moving her hand across the wall for the light switch.

"G'night!" She smirked, flicking the light off and slamming the door behind her. Leaving Tig alone in the dark with his pants around his ankles and his cock shrinking by the second.

The air outside was ten degrees colder than inside the garage and she felt a shiver run over her skin but the sated demon inside her forced out a laugh. She was free, maybe not safe, but at least she'd taught him a lesson.

She moved quickly, hurrying across the lot to the warmth and relative safety of the clubhouse. She tried to walk tall and proud, but the instant satisfaction and amusement began to turn icy inside her. She knew she'd stepped over the line; he was going to want serious revenge for what she'd done. Suddenly she felt all her blood was running cold with regret; whole thing now seemed like a _very_ bad move.

She tried to push the growing worry down, and own her choices but she couldn't. She'd fucked up and suddenly she knew it. Tig had everything he needed to destroy what she was trying to build with SAMCRO. If the Sons found out what she'd done to him, how she'd played him -used the promise of pussy to trap him- all the respect she'd earned would be shattered.

She hissed, scolding herself for giving into the darkness that made her do such stupid shit. She knew at first she'd been trying to protect herself but that had birthed a pissing contest. The lust to prove herself to him -embarrass him- make him suffer had taken over and the aftermath now made her shiver with dread.

Inside the garage the only light Tig could use was coming from the office window, an orangey light that was good for next to nothing. He tried to reach out for a metal file that he hoped would help free him from his anchor but his fingertips couldn't quite reach. "Fucking bitch!" He growled to himself, rage so hot in his chest and throat it physically burnt like battery acid.

She was clever, the cabinet draws were all locked and there was no way for him to escape without a serious struggle and potentially, physical injury. He'd killed men for less and the fire in front of his eyes told him that his hands would be covered in her blood before the night was through.

•••••••••••••••••••

Almost an hour passed and Leni easily found distraction from the threat of Tig in a game of pool with Jax, Juice and Happy. Although the worry was sitting heavy on her shoulders, she'd almost managed to forget about him all together. Guessing he'd got free and hit the road to find a piece of pussy willing to patch and re-inflate his punctured ego.

Despite her wiser side warning her not to, she found it easy enough to relax and convince herself that she'd done the right thing. Men like him had no respect for women. They used them for what they needed and kicked them to into the gutter - _or worse_. She was certain he'd manipulated and cornered hundreds of women; making it so they couldn't say no to him, even if they wanted to. She'd scored a point for all the girls who had been used and abused by Alexander Trager. Hopefully he'd learn to think twice before he tried fucking with the fairer sex again.

Finally free and storming into the clubhouse -bold as ever- Tig's eyes fell first on her standing at the pool table with_ his_ friends. The mere sight of her put a flame to his bubbling vat of rage. Seeing red her flew at her.

"You fuckin' cunt!" He barked. Grabbing her wrist, spinning her round to face him before wrapping his large hand around her slender neck.

His actions were so quick no-one had time to react. The pool cue fell from her limp hand and he slammed her into the small strip of wall between the chapel door and window. His hands around her throat, struggling not to squeeze tight enough to make her head pop off.

"I'll fuckin' kill you!" He told her, his voice raw with fury. His eyes locked on hers viciously, wanting to see the terror in her eyes but there was nothing there. In fact - she was smiling at him. Goading him into doing something he'd regret. Like she _wanted_ to be hurt, to be punished in some way. Like she enjoyed it!

"Tig! Let her go!" Clay ordered. The Sons circling ready to pull him off her -if she started to struggle- but to their surprise she remained calm. Their blue eyes glared at one another like two of the hottest flames. Minds unable to process what they were seeing or truly feeling in the heat of the moment.

She felt his grip tighten, his palm pressing so hard against her windpipe she began to see stars. He wanted to hurt her and he wanted to see her afraid of him. His strong grip was determined to choke the life out of her and her senses knew it. Adrenaline kicked in, sparking her fight response, and instinct took over.

Too slick and quick for Tig to realize what was happening, she slipped her right arm under his left, bringing it to the center of his chest. Her foot found the toe of his boot and she pressed down as she jammed two fingers up and jabbed them hard into his throat. Hitting the pressure point just below his Adam's apple that caused his gag reflex to jolt. His body jerked back -breaking his grip- his hands instinctively rushing to his own throat. But his foot was trapped under hers and he stumbled, crashing back into the line of Sons who barely managed to catch him.

She gasped for a breath, relief flooding in for just a second before it turned again to fear and regret. Quickly, trying to gather her thoughts she looked at him -being righted by his brothers- and their eyes locked again, hungering for another round of violence and threats.

The fire was present, yet calm Leni's eyes as she stepped away from the wall she'd been pinned too. She looked at him with a coldness in her eyes that spoke of nothing but disgust for the man before her.

She opened her mouth to speak, to threaten him. Tell him if he ever touched her again - _she'd_ kill _him._ However, she refused to give in to her rage and swallowed her venomous words, knowing there was no benefit to an additional threat. She'd already made her point perfectly clear.

Tig glared at her, shocked but still furious. His whole body screaming to lunge for her again -to finish the job- but somehow he stayed rooted to the spot. He didn't know how she'd freed herself -but she had- and as he watched her walk away the lava-like rage inside him oddly began to cool. Solidified, with a thin layer of respect forming over the top.

He absolutely hated it but the way she'd handled him was undeniably sobering. Such a graceful -simple- move against such aggression. Perfectly illustrating the differences in the power of a woman and that of a man.

The kinder voice in his head told him that he should be grateful. She could have done so much more to humiliate him in front of everyone. She could have spat at him, kicked him in the balls, told him what a weak idiot she thought he was, but she didn't. She let it go and weirdly, he was relieved.

Leni walked away as calmly as she could -feeling everyone's eyes on her back- but as soon as she turned the corner and saw her apartment door, she ran. Flying through the door and slamming it shut, and locking it tight behind her.

Her body was shaking with so much pressure building up inside her. So many memories bought back. So many different voices in her head shouting for so many different kinds of action. One telling her to go back and kick his ass. Another telling her to get her things and leave as quick as she could. A different one simply told her she was a fool. Reckless and stupid, and with that voice she couldn't argue.

She felt her eyes burning, tears so eager to burst free but she wouldn't allow it. She'd never let herself cry over an asshole like him. Most of all she wouldn't cry in self-pity, knowing she knew she'd bought it all down on herself.

She was playing games with him and she knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help herself. She was plagued with a need to prove herself. To make men like him believe she was strong enough to fend off the dangers that this life bought. She'd been taught to protect herself, because there _were_ so many dangers in their world for a woman. Especially one who had to walk tall through a pack of wild beasts. She'd been taught how to avoid and calm conflict but instead of resisting it, she chased it. The thrill of getting one over on a man like him was too much of a lure.

Something about him provoked the dark side she tried so hard to keep hidden and control. She had wanted to teach him a lesson but instead she'd shaken her own confidence in everything - herself and her surroundings.

She was supposed to be safe in that clubhouse but she'd blown it now. She had no doubt that Tig was telling everyone what she'd done. Making them hate her, the way she hated herself and all the things she did in the name of business and sick pleasure, and all the shit she continued to do in order to survive. She knew there would be consequences from her actions; in one way or another she knew she'd pay for what she'd chosen to do.

In the common room of the clubhouse, the Sons demanded to know what had happened but Tig refused to say. Wanting to protect himself from any further stress or potential embarrassment. He stormed back out into the night and climbed up to the roof away from the questions of his peers.

The fact that she was just a few feet below him tried to sour him but the confused emotions inside found some odd sense of comfort in knowing she was close. He didn't know what was wrong with him. The bitch had played him, not once, _but twice_ - in that night alone!

She'd tricked him into believing that she wanted him and then trapped him like some half poisoned rat. Handed his ass to him in front of everyone he loved and respected. He knew she should have hated her. He knew he should have wanted to rip her apart with his bare hands, bathe in her blood and bury her in Chigger Woods but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't find the malice in him at that moment.

Now his temperature had settled, he could see nothing but the image of her pinned against the wall. He'd seen something in her eyes that both scared and interested him. It was as if she was fearless yet broken. Like there was nothing he could have done to her that she hadn't suffered and survived before. It scared him to think of how he wanted to crawl inside her head and find out what made her who she was. Feeling that maybe in turn, it would help him understand himself a little better.

The way she'd fought him off was worthy of admiration, her moves so subtle and skilled. Gentle defense over his grasping aggression had won out. The philosophical side of him thought it a perfect example of the woman's strength in their world of testosterone fueled violence and bigotry. His head was so hazy, spinning with everything that had happened and all it meant.

He hated himself for not being smart enough to realize what she was doing but he wanted her so much he'd been easily blinded. That was his fault. It was _all_ his fault. He'd started picking on her because the booze inside him had teamed up with his confused guilt and aggression. Making him do things he wasn't completely resolved to do.

With all emotions aside, he couldn't deny that he'd perhaps bought the whole situation down on himself. He'd been desperate to push her, challenge her; to see what she was really made of. He never expected her to rise to the challenge and that was his oversight.

He had cornered her -on his turf- when she was all alone and weakened, yet cleverly she'd escaped from him. He had wanted to test her all along, and she'd passed with flying colours. He hated the idea that all the facts proved him wrong about her, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep denying it. She'd held her own against him, taught him a thing or two. He knew it was crazy to feel such a bizarre sense of admiration for her, he should have been drowning in hatred and rage but it wouldn't seem to come.

Other women would have crumbled and wept at the sight of his rage. They would have rolled over and let him have his way. The feel of his strong hands around her fragile neck should have put fear in her heart and panic in her eyes but she was so cold. So emotionally detached, like a soldier who had seen too much death and war. A warrior who had lost the will to survive and was living only on loyalty to the cause and will to take out as many rivals as he could. It scared him to see such darkness inside her because he knew that exact same darkness resided inside him.

He put his head in his hands and clenched his jaw tight. So many thoughts in his brain were warring, trying to turn him crazy. _'You're actually feelin' sympathy for that gash?...You wanna go kiss and make up with the bitch who just fucked you over like that?'_ He growled, as a whispered memory of the pleasure she'd inflicted on him floated through his body.

_'You wanna talk?... Get to know that cunt?... You think she can save you?...She hates you!...She knows what a worthless asshole you are." _Tig winced, wishing for silence between his ears_. "She did that to you because she knows you hurt and kill innocent women...She grew up without a mother because of a man like you, just like Donna's kids will...She knows what you are, Alex!... She. Sees. You!' _

Tig knocked the heel of his palm against his head and ran his hand through his hair. The whiskey fueled anger had passed, allowing the darkness to creep in again, trying to consume him. His guilt for what he'd done to Donna mixing with his mess of feelings for Leni. He started to wonder if she was bought into his life as some kind of nemesis. The bringer of retribution for all that he'd done to women in the past.

His hand clenched into a fist, the emotion so sharp and bitter in his stomach. He needed to stop thinking, and the best way to do that was to go get drunk - start a fight. Get hit by a stranger, and punch back to let out the anger and frustration in the best way he knew how.

Enjoy the blows he received because they made him feel something other than the hollowness that ate away at him inside. Find the physical pain that would help him run from the emotional hurt, that stung at him behind his mask of bravado and blind aggression. Sighting, he began to wonder if he had the strength to survive through another night that had the power to finally break him once and for all.

_**A/N:**__ Okay, so this is a game changer for Tig and Leni. Will it improve their relationship, or make it even more dangerous? You'll have to wait and see! ;o) _

_The move Leni pulls on Tig when he has her by the throat, is a very real self-defence move. So ladies, (if you can) go take a class and if you're ever in that situation go for the throat and follow up with a swift kick in the balls! ;o) _


	12. Chapter 11: Resolve

**A/N: **As always, huge thanks for the lovely reviews/follows/faves, I wouldn't be posting here without you guys!

Sorry for the slackness in updating, me and chapter eleven had a falling out and I had to rework some stuff. So this is a two-part update to make up for the delay. It was originally one huge chapter but two parts seem to work better. Hope you enjoy!

**Orestes by A Perfect Circle**

_I don't wanna feel this_  
_Overwhelming hostility_  
_Gotta cut away, clear away_  
_Snip away and sever this_  
_Umbilical residue_  
_Keeping me from killing you_

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Eleven || **Resolve **

Almost three days had passed by since the incident in the garage. The cuts and bruises Tig had earned -during a bar fight in Stockton- were healing well. Especially considering he'd done a piss-poor patch up job in the dives filthy bathroom, just before passing out drunk under a tree in the parking lot. Waking up to the warm sunshine, a stinking hangover and shadow of two cops standing over him; advising him to move on before he was arrested. As he hoped, getting into a fight had helped him deal with the aggression he felt for what had happened in the garage. However, it did nothing to clear his head of the many conflicting thoughts that found a home there.

Since the incident -and much to his relief- he had barely set eyes on Leni. He couldn't believe she had been in his life for a week already. Crazy bitch had pulled so much shit it felt like she'd been around for months! Getting under his skin and into his head in a way he could neither resist or ignore.

He was grateful for the way she made herself scarce around him. He had felt so torn since the incident in the garage, he was concerned about how he might react if he got close enough to see her face to face for more than a moment.

He kept replaying what happened over and over in his head. The cold reality of what went down between them and fantasies of what could have been. He'd been so sure he wanted to kill her, but he had become haunted by the look in her eyes when he'd attempted to do it. Each time the anger inside him tried to dominate and goad him into taking revenge, a flash of pinned to the wall -her face, her eyes- came to his mind and covered him with the strangest of feelings.

His brothers had been curious about what had happened and asked several times about what went down between them, but he couldn't find the words. He knew they all considered Leni some kind of savior. How could he find the words to explain what happened without painting himself as the bad guy? Or worse,_ an idiot._

The voice of reason kept telling him it was his fault. He walked into the garage with the intention of taking revenge against her for what she'd said and done to him. He'd pushed up on her, with dark intentions. Playing with the idea of forcing himself on her, to dominate her and satisfy his urges. While proving to himself that she wasn't as powerful as rumor implied. Deep down, he knew all along that it was wrong but then_ that_ had never stopped him doing anything in the past.

Instead of bending to his will, she'd tricked him. Used sex as a way to take control and make him look like a fool, in the same way he attempted to use it to dominate and overpower her. He couldn't let his brothers learn of how he'd been out smarted by her, especially in those kinds of circumstances. Knowing his reputation would suffer for them to know he'd been played by a woman in such a way.

He couldn't mouth off to them about how he didn't trust her and how dangerous she was, because the only solid reason he had to justify that, tied back to the garage. The worst part was, knowing -deep down- that he deserved what happened. He bought it down on himself, chasing vengeance for how she'd bruised his ego and made him feel insecure about things with the Mayan. The fact was, she'd helped the club and that counted for something with everyone_ but_ him. Inside he feared that his brothers wouldn't understand why he did what he did. He worried they wouldn't side with him if they knew the actions he'd taken when he found her alone and vulnerable. He really didn't want to give Clay another reason to question his state of mind.

There was no way to tell them how it repeatedly ate at him to know she could see through him like she did; how she seemed to know what he was thinking and how to manipulate him. How the fact that she was cunning and strong scared him, and aroused him equally. He couldn't find the words to explain the myriad of feelings he had towards her -the hate, the lust, the compassion- so he kept his mouth shut. Said nothing and dodged their questions until they finally stopped asking and found new things to wonder about.

Hoping not to reignite their questions and the fires that raged between him and Leni, he did his best to avoid her too. Constantly fighting the dark urges that wanted to extract their revenge from her, once and for all. He'd made sure to stay away from the clubhouse after hours, knowing that in the darkness he would struggle to resist the urge to break into her room and finish what he'd tried to start.

However, as the time passed he found the ideas of hurting her started to fade away, replacing his dark urges with a strange and muted emotion that he couldn't label. It was as if some strange kind of lull was falling over his warring emotions. Like a cut that had been so angry and raw, but was slowly starting to heal over.

_He hated it!_ He deeply wanted to get fired up with rage and let it run away with him, confront her. Put her in her place and lay the playing fields in his favor. He didn't want to accept what happened, to patch the puncture in his pride and bury the last of his animosity deep down. It went against his every instinct but the internal tug-of-war was weakening him. A battle had raged for days between the venom and hostility -the need to validate himself as a strong powerful man- and the curiosity he felt for her, the empathy that nipped at his heels, the draw he felt to her body and the mystery in her eyes. He didn't know how to untangle it all and compartmentalize what he was feeling the way he did with other things.

Deep down he knew what he was feeling was all part of some kind of masochistic trip. Deriving some bizarre sense of pleasure out of all the hurt and anguish that grew inside. Choosing her to be the whip of punishment that he craved for the mistakes he'd made before she came along. Pushing at her and starting fires as some kind of defense mechanism to keep her away from him. Knowing she was something he'd never be able to have, but secretly enjoying the way in his futile pursuit of his desire cut at him.

Despite everything he knew and felt, all his concerns and fears about what could happen, he wanted to be around her. If only to gauge how she was feeling; see where her head was at. Find out if she was as twisted up inside about it all as he was. And yet whenever she did show her face, the dark voices screamed at him to grab her by the throat again and finish what he started by choking the life out of her. Then, when she walked away or he walked out, he felt guilt and anxiety flooded in to sink his stomach. He couldn't figure himself out, what he wanted or what he needed. He'd never known a woman get under his skin like she did, to push his buttons and make him feel so much shit. He knew it was partly because he encouraged it and allowed her to; he needed something to hurt himself with.

Amongst his muddle of emotions was a worry about her intentions. With everything that had happened to the club in recent weeks -all that had been frayed- there was some room for doubt about the strength of his bond with his brotherhood. There were already enough lies and betrayals floating around to burn things down, without her adding to it.

Was she slowly poisoning everyone against him? He found it hard to doubt, knowing he'd do the same if he had the chance. Was she planning some other kind of revenge of her own? If he could find the spark inside him to do so, he would be busy doing that himself. Of course, he knew she didn't need to plan revenge against him because she already had the upper hand, the crowning glory of saving herself from his murderous clutches.

He wondered if she was even thinking about him at all. Was she trying to figure out how she felt about what happened? Wishing for a way to turn back time, for a chance to do things differently. Hoping for a way to alter things between them and find some clarity inside herself, in same the way he was. Was she in the midst of a party of conflicting emotions and crazy thoughts too? He hoped she was, because he was tired of dancing there alone.

He didn't know how she'd pulled him under the way she did. No woman had done it before -not for more than a couple of hours at least- and he hoped that there would never be another with her powers. He guessed he was taking things down too deeply because of what he'd done to Donna. Her death had opened up long-sealed doors inside him, openings that Leni was exploiting without even knowing it.

He knew and understood aggression and hatred, that's why he so often chose to stand with it in his heart. The softer emotions he wasn't comfortable with, he didn't understand them, and he didn't want to. In his world, there was no time or space for getting caught up in that bullshit but somehow he'd been twisted up and split into pieces by everything that had happened in the last month or so.

It was draining, and he longed for the more familiar -negative- emotions, sick of being besieged by the ones he didn't know so well, and the weird haze they put him under. He could always lose himself in a woman, in booze or under the hood of a car but it didn't seem last long enough anymore. His mistakes were never too far away from his mind, and now Leni was a constant reminder of the bad things he'd done. Not just to her, but women in his past and he hated how it stung.

Even from a distance she played with his head, with her ability to draw his attention to her. Coming out of the clubhouse at random moments, releasing her presence into the air which silently called out to him. Making him to look across the lot to where she was, reminding him again of everything he was trying to forget just as he'd managed to prise its grip off his conscious mind.

The past two mornings he had been up early enough to open up the garage. The first time was an accident, but what he saw made certain that his timing the next day it _wasn't._ He'd witnessed Leni and Half-Sack working out together outside of the clubhouse and the scene certainly had a draw. It was something he wanted to see, but he couldn't resist exposing himself to it.

He found himself watching from the shadows of the workshop with jealous, brooding eyes as she ran back and forth -up and down- the loading bay, challenging the prospect. They kept pace together for a while, but he usually started to lag before she got tired.

He watched uncomfortably as they did pad work and sparred together. He hated the way it made him feel to see her like that, the lust and the jealousy mingling together. Rising up and threatening to burst out of his chest and choke him - _or her._ Yet he found some sick sense of comfort in the bad emotions -the ones he longed for- because he understood them.

He could deal with the bitterness that filled him as he watched Half-Sack holding hook-and-jab pads for her to punch and kick in her skimpy little workout clothes. He felt more relaxed with the negativity inside; able to convincing himself that she was goading him from afar. Hanging around outside like she did, putting on display what she was never going to let him have. Like she enjoyed the feel of his eyes burning into her and the way it all put together to encourage him to act out again.

He wanted so badly to feel the darkest of rages inside him. To find that almost stifling hostility he'd held for her, but the harder he tried to find it inside - the further it slipped from his reach. It confused him so deeply to now have so many reasons to feel it -_to_ _own it_- but something had fallen in the way, blocking the fire from completely flooding his veins whenever it threatened to engulf him.

That very morning he had been sure things were going to explode when he'd watched the two of them leave the lot for a run round the neighborhood. Of course at the time, Tig didn't know where they were going -or what they were up to- and the urge to go after them was almost uncontrollable. Thoughts of what could happen_ to_ her -to the prospect- all the things that could happen _between_ them tried to worm under his skin. A thousand little voices encouraging such strange feeling inside him.

They were missing for almost an hour before Leni appeared at the lot gates, jogging up to the picnic tables and sitting down to take a rest just as Half-Sack dragged himself in behind her. It looked as if she had energy to spare, but she hadn't cast so much as a sideways glance in the direction of the garage where Tig stood watching.

He didn't know it, but she was able to feel his eyes on her even from such a distance away. They made her feel uncomfortable and scrutinized but she could do nothing but accept it. She had already resolved to ignore him; knowing it was safer for both of them if they were invisible to each other.

Witnessing her forming some kind of life there played on his mind more than anything; everywhere he looked she was building bonds with his brothers and he hated it. He wanted to get mad about it, and he felt a deep but impotent anger for the way the Sons build their own friendships with her, but the aggression was too placid to provoke a reaction in him. He didn't dare consider what he felt to actually be jealousy and _not_ anger. After what she had done to him, he knew they could never be friends and that fact made him despise what he saw all the more.

It seemed that over the past few days she and his brothers had built up a lot of banter together. It looked like they had forgotten what happened the night after she killed the Mayan, and no one seemed to care anymore about what she'd done to him. And why should they be? She was up on a pedestal for what she'd done for the club and he was struggling to resist the steadily growing urge to kick it out from under her.

He'd been witness to their little jokes time and time again. Seeing how whenever she was working out with Half-Sack and the other Sons were on the lot -if they crossed paths with her- they would jokingly sing the Rocky theme, playfully mocking her. She'd flip them off or dismiss them in some other sassy way and Tig would watch on as they'd all laughed together; making it look like she'd been a fixture in the place her whole damn life. He hated seeing the bitch integrating into his world so well, but he could hardly stand being left out of it. And yet, at the same time the very thought of trying to involve himself with her tasted too sour to swallow.

He couldn't understand why he wanted to be a part of what he saw. She'd fucked him over -_numerous times_- and he couldn't forget that. Yet something inside kept reminded him how _he_ was the one that had been longing for the chance to corner her, to test what she was really made of. When the chips were down, she showed herself to be as cunning and brave alone, as she was surrounded by support. Underneath it all, he found it impossible to avoid admiring that about her; even if he _really_ didn't want to.

Tig told himself not to care about what was going on, knowing she wouldn't be around for much longer. Yet every time he saw her tail-lights fade off the lot -with Happy and Chibs riding behind her- he was devoured by a suddenly powerful envy and a dash of muted concern.

Whenever they left, he found himself checking the clock - monitoring how long they were gone. Calculating how long it would take to get to the city at that particular time of day. Guessing how much time she'd need to spend there before trying to work out what time they'd be back. His mind plagued with ideas of what they might be up to when she was gone longer than he'd guessed. Wondering about all the things she was doing that he couldn't see. He tried hard not to think about it, trying to resist getting caught up in emotional bullshit but his defenses were weakened and it seeped in through the cracks too easily.

He knew she and Happy had a '_thing' _of sorts and his jealous mind loved to overwork the facts he had; making him wonder if they'd ever fucked. Each time he decided they hadn't, images of Leni blowing the Nomad and the Scotsman began to dance in front of his eyes. Images of the two men having her in the way he wanted made his blood boil. His twisted mind, mixing things up and drawing the wrong conclusion over and over, until he was slamming draws and throwing tools.

Many times he wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to him. _But how could she? _He could hardly admit it to himself. He hated her and the way she made him feel, messing him up inside like no one had managed to do before.

She was just a piece of pussy dressed up in a way that plucked at all his triggers. An novelty in his world that forced him to pay more attention to her than he knew he should. He hoped so much that she was suffering in the same way over him, but all he saw said she was unaffected. She'd stung him with her poison and walked away without a care in the world.

Despite himself, he always felt some strange sense of relief when he saw the bikers return, safe and sound. Relieved they hadn't been caught up or in a shootout or run off the road by rivals. However, the relief only ever lasted a few moments, before it turned to animosity again. The ever-present resentment he felt for knowing that she -an outside, _a __woman_- had experiences with his brothers that he was no part of.

He was an integral part of the club, the large cog that kept things spinning. Yet ever since what happened in the garage, he felt almost surplus to requirements. He knew it was partly his own fault for distancing himself but with things being so quiet for SAMCRO it was all too easy to drift. The drama with the ATF had eased, and the shock of Donna's death was fading. Although he knew it was the right thing for the club to lay low until all the dust settled on everything, he was itching for something to do to distract him. Someone to beat up, or a kill to plan. Anything that could remind him that he was still deeply embedded in the club, to counter the feeling that his screw was turning loose.

All he'd had to do over the last couple of weeks was fix cars and bikes. Walk the short distance home, get drunk and pass out. The quiet hadn't really bothered him before she'd arrived, but she'd slipped into the cuts inside him and had infected his brain with so much. Making every little thing seem like something and knowing his brothers were out riding around with her -helping her run her ship while their own floated along calmly- made him irritable and reactive. A dangerous combination.

Growling to himself as he packed up his tools for the day, and watched again as Happy and Chibs walked with Leni into the clubhouse. A faint pain stabbing at his stomach as he caught sight of her pushing Happy playfully in reaction to something he'd said. Making the nomad laugh and casually drape his arm around her shoulders.

His scowled, a voice in his head told him that the bitch was letting everyone but him get it! He was sure of it! _Fucking slut!_ No way would his brothers be so cool with her without sex being involved! _No way!_ Things might have been different for the Saints, but in SAMCRO women had their place. On their backs or serving drinks, and she wasn't doing the latter.

With a flame igniting in his heart, he slammed the draws on his tool chest shut and stormed off after them. He wasn't going to be left out anymore. He wanted to see what was going on close up, and damn the consequences. No one was going to get in his way, especially not her.

He flew into the clubhouse to see a cluster of bikers standing at the bar as Half-Sack served up some beers. All eyes went to him, an air of surprise filling the club as he walked right in and took a seat at the bar. Over the last few days if he caught one look at Leni, he scowled and walked away, but now - there he was. Sitting down boldly, in the same room as her; for the first time in days.

Clay looked to Jax and then to Bobby, each wondering what was about to pop off. All of the Sons had noticed the tension between the two; a blind man could have seen it. Yet they were all clueless about what happened between them. Tig was a master at hiding his deeper emotions but he often struggled to disguise his hostility. Even in just the few seconds that they crossed paths, it felt as if the two of them would blow up and fight to the death in the middle of the clubhouse.

Even for the bikers who knew anger and destruction well, it was still unnerving to see two volatile -dangerous- people at odds with each other. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before someone's fuse was lit and blood was shed.

The bitter taste of being left out finally settled a little at the back of Tig's throat. He swiped the beer Half-Sack passed him and practically downed it in one. He wasn't sure what the hell he was doing in there; he had work to get done and he was in no kind of mental state to deal with her bullshit. Yet he didn't want to walk away, he needed to do something to break the cycle before it drove him completely over the edge.

He was sick of being on the fringes of his world, feeling pushed out through his own actions and choosing. He knew they would never voluntarily involve him, knowing how frayed things were between him and the bitch. If he wanted to be a part of what his brothers were wrapped up in, it was down to him to force his way back into it.

A strange atmosphere settled over the bar room of the clubhouse as the bikers settled in, decompressing from various events of the day so far. It all seemed peaceful -if somewhat uneasy and fragile- until the door flew open and Chief Unser walked in.

"What's up?" Bobby asked, as Clay got to his feet to meet the Chief near the bar.

"Got some information from the knife you gave me." He told and Leni's heart sank. She knew this was coming. She hadn't had the time or the energy to prepare herself for the war the information would bring. She had too many current battles on her plate to go borrowing trouble, but there it was - coming for her again. Another bout of stress and drama to shake her foundations just as they'd settled.

"There was a partial print..." Unser told. "...Tough trace. Had to tap _a lot_ of databases to get a match...Turns out it was this guy..." Unser placed the file he was holding on the bar and Clay pulled it over and opened it. Seeing a mug shot of a mixed race guy looking back at him. "Anton Martin. He's from New York, but moved in to Sacramento a few years back." Some heads nodded, grateful for the summary. "By the look of it, he's a petty theft and dealer...What he's doing sending death threats, is anyones guess..." Unser shrugged, showing he was out of ideas and information.

Clay passed the file to Leni and she looked it over, her eyes darkening. "I know him..." The news was no surprise. "...He works for a Japanese dude called Freddie Takahasi ..." The men listened in for her explanation. "Just after I took the gavel, Johnny was trying to get us to vote in a drug deal with his crew. Runnin' blow - up north to ship out to Japan. No one wanted it, so shit got sour between us for a while. But that was like..." She quickly calculated the time in her head "...two years ago...I dunno why he'd still hold a grudge. He's doin' pretty well without us from what I hear..."

"_Well_..." Chibs spoke up. "...How about we go ask him what his problem is?" Chibs offered.

Leni gave a soft, but devious smile. "You read my mind!"

"Alright." Clay nodded, as hungry for answers as everyone else. "Juice?" He called and a mohawked head popped up from behind a laptop. "You guys go with Leni." Clay pointed out the Puerto Rican, nomad and Scotsman. "Leave the kuttes, take the truck _and_ the prospect..." He didn't know enough about their target to be confident in their level of honor and he didn't want things to blow back on his club or risk Leni being under manned.

Tig felt something burst in his chest and fly out of his mouth. "I'm going too!" He announced, instantly regretting it as all eyes shot to him. He didn't want to go. _Hell,_ he didn't give a shit what trouble she was in and he certainly didn't want to help her, but there was no way in hell he could stand by while they left him out - _again! _

Leni looked him over and their blue eyes met for the first time in days. She didn't want him riding with her, she didn't want him _anywhere_ near her. She didn't trust him and she knew he didn't trust her.

His lack of retaliation against her for what she'd done to him in the garage _and_ in front of his friends was unnerving her. She'd lay awake for the last three nights replaying her mistaken actions. Barricading her door, full of worry that he'd break into her room. Walking the corridors of the empty clubhouse with a gun tucked into her pants in case he cornered her to finish what he started.

For all she knew, he'd spent the time plotting fifteen different ways to kill her and pin it on someone else. It seemed unnatural for him not to have tried to even the score and it _really_ unnerved her. She knew he was dangerous and his predatory distance was troubling. The threat and fear of his vengeance prevented her from feeling much else about what happened between them in the garage, but she knew there was a lot of emotion inside just waiting to explode.

She had to wonder if this was the chance he'd been waiting for. An opportunity to get her while she was truly vulnerable, in enemy territory. She didn't want to have to grow eyes in the back of her head, but turning him away would make a bigger deal out of the standoff between them.

It was highly unlikely, but it _was_ possible his voluntary involvement was a gesture of good will, and if that was so, telling him where to jump off would only burn down all hope of there ever being some kind of civility between them. She had to tie down what she felt -what was threatening inside- and move forward. Take a risk and hope he wouldn't try to take advantage of her being vulnerable again.

Clay searched her face for a sign that called him in to pull Tig away -put him on another job- but she seemed indifferent to his involvement. He hadn't expected her to react in such a way but he felt confident that she would have voiced an issue if she had one.

"Just be back in time for church!" He ordered, like a cross between a concerned father and a commanding officer. It was a Friday night and no one wanted to miss out on the party but as always, there were no guarantees on how the day would end.

Hesitantly, Leni looked around the room her eyes catching on Tig's again. She had to suck it up and deal with it. She couldn't afford to let Trager see she was uncomfortable around him, knowing all he'd need was a hint of the tiniest weakness and he'd exploit it.

Staying stoic with him lurking around her was going to be difficult, she wasn't confident in her ability to bite her tongue when she had to. With any luck, the job would be done quickly and then she could go back to avoiding him again, or perhaps go home and leave him behind all together.

"Let's bounce!" She said simply, pulling her eyes away from Tig and grabbing her jacket off the back of a chair. The sooner they got to the bottom of this shit, the sooner she could get back to her life in the city and finally get away from the blue-eyed asshole who made her head spin like a top.

**A/N:**_ If you made it this far - don't forget: it's a two-part update. There's another chapter waiting :o) _


	13. Chapter 12: Retribution

_**A/N: **Second part of a** two part** update. If you missed chapter eleven, go back one or this won't make much sense! ;o)_

**King of the World by Porcelain and the Tramps**

**Crosstown Woman by Black Stone Cherry**

I have seen the girls of New York City,

And the 'Frisco Bay.

But there ain't no woman on this earth,

Makes me feel her voodoo,

Quite the same.

Got me a crosstown woman,

Got me under her spell.

Got me a crosstown woman,

She's like my heaven, with a whole lot of hell.

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Twelve || **Retribution**

Happy drove the van to Sacramento with Leni riding shotgun and the guys in the back. She didn't need a map to know exactly where they were headed, having lived in and around the city for most of her life. The nomad had a vague idea where they were headed but was grateful when she freely offered directions, which prevented him from having to look like less of a man by asking for them.

In the back, Chibs, Tig, Juice and Half-Sack rode in silence. No one really knew what to expect -or what to say to each other- they intended it to be a shakedown for information but something about the mood in the van said it was likely going to be more of a '_show_down_'._

They pulled up opposite a red brick apartment block which sat across the street from a large park and less than a block from the district hospital. Leni double checked the address on the file in her hands and gave Happy the nod - signaling they were in the right place.

"What'd you wanna do?" He asked.

Leni shrugged, uncertain. "Sit for a bit, I guess...see if he shows up." Happy nodded, agreeing it was the best course of action and a few moments of silence fell on the inside of the van. Each head thinking very different thoughts, feeling a mixture of worries and concerns. Fully aware of all that could go wrong and how quickly a simple looking situation could turn into an mammoth cluster fuck.

"This guy's smart..." Leni muttered, thinking out loud. "Place like this...the park...hospital down the street. Nursing home, dental practice...It's a busy area." The bikers nodded - only a fool would bring down an attack on someone living in such a populated area, with a continual stream of potential witnesses all around.

"I thought you only wanted to chat?" Happy asked with a hint of a smirk in his eyes and on his lips.

Leni laughed softly. "Don't know if you've noticed, but my '_chats'_ have a habit of involving gunplay." Happy chuckled and in the back of the van, Tig clenched his jaw tight. That bitch and her little inside jokes with everyone.

He looked down at his hands and willed himself to keep from diving into the still, dark waters of anger and bitterness. He only had himself to blame for being stuck in the van. He'd opted in for it and now he was regretting it. Sitting there like an idiot, waiting for her to call the shots - _again_! What had he been thinking?

He could feel Chibs' eyes on him but he didn't look up; there was nothing to say. He was stuck there helping her out and even if he did hate it, he wasn't going to walk away. He wanted to see what was going to happen, how she'd play things. Find out if she'd give him another reason to hate her, or maybe stick him with another injection of unwelcome admiration.

The bikers sat patiently, not saying much to each other as they watched the building; minutes ticking by as they waited for movement they needed to pounce on. Leni's mind was focused on the task, trying desperately not to worry about Tig sitting a couple of feet behind her, with his mind warring with itself again. Struggling to avoid the eyes of his brothers as the voice in his head told him how stupid he was for getting involved one minute; then started telling him to shut up and enjoy the ride the next.

He was a man who thought fast and reacted too quickly sometimes -which had got him into the van at that very moment- his rank meant he had to be quick to respond to threats and opportunities. He was also a man who often jumped to conclusions; occasionally they were wrong, but more often than not they were right. That was what had sealed his opinion about Leni; made him think he was right about how she wasn't fit to take control the way she did. Even thought she was challenging his preconceptions every chance she got, he wasn't willing to put faith in her the way his brothers seemed to. Especially not when she'd coldly tricked him like she had, played without sign of remorse him time and time again.

Fresh bitterness started rising again with the memory of how she'd fooled him in the garage. Seduced him and trapped him like some big dumb animal. He thought back to how she'd challenged him on the ride to Sacramento several days earlier, kicked his ass in a race. How her smart mouth kept bouncing back at every snide comment he made. Thoughts of how badly he wanted to kill her when he'd pinned her against the wall by the throat. Then an image of the look in her eye flashed up and the anger simmered back down again.

Hidden behind all her conniving ways and sassy remarks was something that piqued his interest. Something he felt could related to, in some strange complicated way. He guessed that was the one thing that kept him from walking into her room at night and putting a bullet in her brain as she slept.

"That's him!" Juice announced; pointing his fingers between the two seats at the front of the van. Instantly Tig's mind snapped back to the present and he leaned forward with interest.

Leni nodded, her eyes watching closely as two men strutted out of the building into the sunshine. One of whom she didn't recognize, but the taller of the two was most definitely their target. The duo exchanged a few words, lit cigarettes and set to walking up the street to where she guessed their car was parked.

As they turned, her sharp eyes noted the glaring white bandage on the second mans forearm, a few small patches of blood visible as he passed across the front of the van. "Wonder what happened to his arm?" Leni asked no one in particular. Her gut clenching at the memory of her overly protective dog who would have taken chunks out of anyone who tried to enter her house.

"Follow him?" Happy asked and Leni nodded; hoping the two men would lead them to a more appropriate place to have a '_discussion'_ about the finger prints and accompanying injury the nameless man had picked up.

Happy waited until their white -early nineties- Caddy started up and rolled down the street, before pulling the van into traffic. He kept a safe distance behind, following the conspicuous looking car through the city streets as the atmosphere in the van tensed. The game was on and no-one knew what to expect, but they all felt sure there would be bullets involved.

•••••••••••••••••••

The van full of bikers trailed their suspects car through the heart of the city and out the other side. Riding over First Street bridge then briefly cutting through another residential section with low rent weather board houses. Before moving out to an industrial area, which was well enough off the map to be a good base for criminal operations.

Happy kept a cautious distance as he pulled off the road and into a unknown area consisting mostly of warehouses, construction trailers and various utility vehicles. Up ahead the white Caddy pulled around the side of a rusting shipping container and parked up.

Keen to avoid being seen, Happy pulled the van in a fair distance away from the target and killed the engine. All eyes fixed on the car as the two occupants -clad head to toe in branded streetwear- got out and headed for the maze of warehouses just up ahead.

"What'd you wanna do?" Chibs' asked from the back of the van.

Leni wasn't sure, but she knew they had to do something. "Follow him, I guess." Every one of the men could sense she wasn't exactly confident in doing so but she wasn't baking out. She didn't know the area or what they might be walking into, but she needed answers and they had been cooped up in the van for almost two hours. If nothing else, everyone needed a burst of activity to cure the side effects of surveillance.

On her move, the men piled out of the van and grouped besides it. Arming up with Glocks, as Leni thought fast. Trying to devise a plan of action and cover as many bases as possible; knowing how volatile the situation could potentially prove to be.

"Chibs? Sack? You guys stay with the van...we might need to get out of here, _fast!_" Leni suggested as she tucked a gun into the waist band of her jeans and the two men nodded. "And if they comes back before we do..."

Chibs cut in. "Knock 'em out and throw him in the back?"

Leni laughed, hiding her nerves well. "Yeah! That'll do it!"

Happy tossed the keys to Chibs, and the Scotsman climbed back into the Van with Half-Sack, to be ready if the rescue call came. She looked to Juice, Happy and finally Tig. The look on his face was hard to pinpoint and she had no intention of trying. This was about her club, there was no room for considering where Trager's head was at.

She felt the familiar concern that he would use the situation to his advantage -look for a way to fuck with her when she was weak- but that was the hand she had been dealt and she had to play it though. Although she would have preferred to have her own guys at her back, she felt strangely safe and confident with the Sons by her side - _most of them at least._

Quickly the small group followed after Anton and his friend; cutting across the cracked cement ground and hurrying into the shade of the surrounding warehouses. Moving together into an alleyway that split the buildings, where they caught sight of their target straight away.

Just up ahead, leaning against a wall -rolling up a cigarette- the two men lingered. The unnamed man who wore ridiculously baggy jeans was gesturing cockily with his hand; probably boasting about a drive-by or a beat down he'd dished out. Unknowingly providing the perfect distraction for the bikers to try gaining on them.

Leni looked to Happy, guessing it was now or never. The two exchanged a look which said everything their words didn't; it was go time.

"Yo!" Happy called out to the two of them. "What happened to your arm bro?"

The men turned to face them, a frown on both faces for a moment, wondering for a second who Happy was and how either of them knew him, before their curious eyes took in the rest of the band. They saw Leni first and realization suddenly dawned. "Shit!" Anton spat. Dropping his cigarette and bolting after his friend who had already figured out what was happening and made a head start, desperate to reach safety.

Instantly Leni and the Sons broke into a sprint, chasing after the two men through the forest of buildings. They were fast and had a decent head start, but the bikers were determined to catch up and run with fire in their eyes.

They each knew it was a big risk to chase someone with no idea what they were headed into, but no one was prepared to give up. The two men's reaction to run said they were guilty and they needed to be brought to justice.

Rounding a corner of a building, the group came upon a large warehouse with a faded red sign above the metal rolling doors which allowed for loading and unloading. They saw Anton cut to the left and disappear around the side; which told them all they had reached the right destination.

"Round the back!" Happy ordered his brothers as he pulled his gun. The small group split up, Juice and Tig headed off to cover the far side of the building -and the most likely point of escape- while Happy and Leni ran on in Anton's footsteps.

There were less buildings surrounding that particular warehouse - on the outskirts of the area which in turn provided clear access to the highway. Something about the location and the confidence at which the suspects bolted for the building felt foreboding, but they couldn't turn back, there was too much at stake.

Rushing around the building, Leni and Happy were just in time to catch a glimpse of Anton as he slipped inside through a fire door at the rear of the building. Unsure where the second man had disappeared to, the two trackers were defensive, guns pointed and eyes sharp. Ready for an ambush in the shaded alleyway.

Tig and Juice skidded around the corner of the building and stopped dead at the sight of the others. Leni's eyes locked on Tig's and for a second she thought she saw concern in his eyes, before they changed to stony blue. Juice gave a palms up gesture, telling the others they'd seen nothing and Leni pointed to the door and the two men nodded knowingly. It wasn't the most ideal place to collar someone, but they had to work with what was handed to them.

The quartet readied their guns as Tig put in a quick call to Chibs, letting him know where they'd ended up and describing the building they were going into. Once he hung up, Happy cautiously opened the door and before Juice could step in - Leni swept in front of him. Her gun pointed out in front of her as she passed through the door; her eyes keen and ready to pounce on any movement inside the room.

It was brighter than she'd expected and she squinted as shone down through the dirty windows and reflected strongly off the gray washed walls and back into the empty room. She felt the Sons filter in behind her and look around, quickly assessing the situation and becoming equally as confused as she was. It seemed the two men had vanished into breezeblocks.

"Urgk!" Juice winced. "You smell that?" The others sniffed and then winced at the chemical burn in the back of their throat. Something was definitely wrong with that place.

"Through there?" Happy gestured. Pointing over to the far end of the room where a door -almost camouflaged by gray paint- peaked out from behind a stack of empty crates.

The group pushed forward, sharp and ready for whatever was waiting behind the door. Their ears were up, listening out for tell tale sounds but the thick walls and heavy door didn't allow for any free clues.

Happy hurried up to the door, waiting for a beat as everyone gathered before opening it up. This time Juice took point and cut in front of Leni; sweeping in to the next room quickly as she and his brothers filed in behind him. Guns pointed forward and shoulders firm; ready for a fight.

The first thing they noticed was the lighting. It was much darker; lit mostly by metal ceiling lamps. The next thing they sensed was the wave of heat -wincing against it _and _the intense smell- they squinted around. Their eyes and brains taking a moment to exchange information as they took in the vast room.

A cold weight dropped into Leni's stomach as she realized what was going on. They had walked into a huge, multi-gang drug operation. Soldiers of black, brown and white, lurked around. All armed and ready to defend their cocaine production business.

All the pieces fell into place; the Saints had been personally attacked by men of various colors over recent months. The club had turned down a drug deal with a guy who was directly tied to the death threat against Leni. Who in turn had a friend with an injured arm, most likely from her dog that they had killed.

They'd hit pay-dirt.

Before the Sons could all catch on, a gunshot rang out. Instinctively, they ducked for cover. Juice leapt off to the left and took shelter behind some old boxes and barrels as Happy did the same on the right. Quickly scrambling for a tactical position behind their cover.

Tig and Leni dropped down behind a stack of crates in front of them, hurrying to take aim against their attackers too. Hands working on defending themselves while their eyes switched between locating targets and trying to find their friends. Minds racing to catch up with what was happening around them; a sudden war zone that they hadn't come prepared for.

"Jesus Christ! I knew this would happen!" Tig barked over the echoing gunfire, but he was too caught in the moment to find a chance to start laying heavy blame on Leni for walking them into the trap.

"Shut up and shoot somebody!" She snapped, panicked by an unexpected show of force and the threat to the men around her.

Tig growled, hating to look as if he was doing what he was told to but he continued to shoot. Half his mind pulling to focus on the fight while the other nagged at him to act out and resist her instructions. He really didn't want to be pinned down in a gun fight with her at his side; cleaning up her mess and getting himself shot or killed in her name. However, he knew had no choice _but_ to fight back, even though he hated that she'd ordered it of him.

Leni tried hard not to panic; they hadn't come equipped for a shootout with so many men. A few handguns and maybe sixty bullets between them - if they were lucky. They had to shoot fast and accurate but with visibility so poor and so much movement, it wasn't going to be easy.

She refused to get caught up in a slurry of thoughts as she fired the gun. Taking out one, then two attackers who lurked above them on the metal catwalk. She didn't spare a thought for if she'd killed them or just wounded them. Taking lives like that was something she'd been doing most of her life; it wasn't anything she paid mind to in the heat of the moment. In situations of sudden danger, all you could do was shoot first, ask questions later.

Tig did the same. The warrior inside him kicked in quick and switched off his conscious mind. Acting like a dam to prevent the details of how they came to be in that situation reaching his head. With the bullets whizzing all around him, he became the machine he needed to be to survive such situations. Anger fueling him and reawakening his sharp skills more with each second that passed.

He effortlessly hit one man in the head and another in the shoulder as everyone in the room found some firepower and started retaliating. Even the masked men in protective clothing suddenly found guns and mercilessly shot back at them.

It was chaos and felt like certain death.

"How many you count?" He asked Leni, trying not to yell but the sound of gunfire was intense.

"Too fuckin' many!" Leni growled, pissed they'd blindly walked right into hell. It was her mistake, she'd underestimated the potential for danger and that ached inside like a broken bone.

They needed more guns on their side but that wasn't an option. All their heavy back up was too far away; they'd be overrun before Clay or Finn even started their bikes up.

To get out alive, they needed a distraction; _a big one._

Her hand went to her pocket, needing her cell-phone but she realized the damn thing was still sitting in the van inside the pocket of her army jacket. "Shit!" She hissed to herself, angry that she'd fucked up in yet another way. She turned to Tig and held out her hand insistently. "Gimme your phone." She ordered.

He stopped firing and looked at her blankly for a beat -his mind struggling to be heard over his instincts- but she wasn't waiting for him to offer it to her. There was too much on the line, and no time to waste. Without hesitation, she closed the gap between them and stuffed her hand into his pocket. Her fingers brushing against his manhood through the cotton of his pocket.

The sensation of her touch instantly took charge of his mind and filling him with an irresistible urge to smirk. "Girl, this is hardly the time or the place!" Tig purred, not even attempting to stop her. Completely forgetting his animosity and the bullets that were zipping by their heads, as warm tingles attacked at his core.

She glared at him angrily, yanking the phone out of his pocket. Pissed off that he was trying to bring things down to that level _again_ - even in that moment. She really didn't need him there to witness her taking his brothers into hell, knowing he'd likely use it against her the first chance he got.

Seeing her hostile eyes, shifted Tig's mood from light to dark in an instant. Bitter memories of their night in the garage coming to the forefront of his mind again, as she flipped open the phone to find Chibs' number and dialed. His eyes narrowed and inside all the emotions he'd felt began to push at the dam his adrenaline had put into place.

"It's Leni! Can you hear me?" She hoped her voice carried over the phone. "You close?" Chibs quickly explained they were about to pull up on the warehouse as per Tig's earlier instructions. "...We're in deep shit! Crash the fuckin' van through the doors!" She ordered, snapping the phone closed and shoving it into Tig's chest.

"What you doin'?" Tig asked, his voice aggressive. Wondering just what the hell she was playing at, ordering people around like the bossy little bitch he'd guessed her to be.

"Tryin' to fix this!" She told him. Ignoring the fire that was starting to glow in Tig's eyes, as she raised up a little to peep over the boxes to seek out Juice.

Her stomach twisted, seeing him clutching at his upper arm. Blood soaking the black sleeve of his hoodie and seeping betweens his fingers. "Fuck!" She winced, pulling her body back under full over. Guilt rising up inside her -threatening to take her over- as she looked over to Happy who was shooting off at anyone in his cross-hairs; looking like he was enjoying himself a little bit _too_ much.

She looked back to Tig, trying not to let her emotions and panic get the better of her. There was no time to breakdown and freak out; she had to keep cool and try to control the situation as best she could. She'd made the mess, and she had to clean it up.

"As soon as Chibs smashes through the doors, shoot whoever the fuck is still standin'!" She told Tig, reaching her hand under her jeans, into her boot where she pulled out her small side arm and tucked it into the waist of her jeans.

Tig _really_ wanted to hate the way she was talking to him, every part of him said it was wrong. Bossing him around and barking orders but the fact was, he was helpless to finding it all pretty arousing. He knew it definitely wasn't the time to let lust take the stage in his head, and he certainly wasn't one for forgiving and forgetting. Yet seeing her all bold and fired up for war was doing it for him, coaxing out a lazy smirk and desire to chase the warmth that her behavior was cultivating inside him.

Something about her leading the charge the charge felt so wrong, but the soldier in him knew that in times of crisis, you didn't squabble. You shut up and followed the leader, regardless of their gender or your personal issues with them.

Leni knew they would only have a split second between their attackers looking at the doors and not where they were sheltered. She waved over to Happy who was pinned down by a sudden barrage of opposing gunfire.

Tig just watched with a tilted head and a strange sensation inside, as she made tactical signs with her hands, telling the Nomad that there was a breach coming through the doors and to fire at anything that wasn't on their side as soon as it hit.

Tig felt a deeper, devlish smile peel across his lips, seeing that she knew how to co-ordinate an attack without the need for words. The only way it could have turned him on more, was if she had been doing it naked.

He really didn't want to admit it, believing he or his brothers should have been the ones to come up with a plan. And he certainly didn't want to buy into the beliefthat she could hold her own, but seeing her taking charge was sexy. He was starting to wonder just how much experience she had in shootout situations.

His eyes fell on her ass as she peeked out to the garage doors, resisting shooting anyone until the distraction took them all by surprise. A warmth swelled in his stomach; it had been days since he'd been anywhere near her and unsurprisingly all his urges were still present.

He still wanted her - _desperately_- in so many different ways, and in that moment he didn't know how much longer he could deny it. He hated her for all the shit she'd pulled on him -all that she'd made him suffer- but it did nothing to stunt his desire for her. In fact, in that moment of panic and adrenaline, it actually seemed to be encouraging his hunger.

Feeling Tig move behind her -getting ready- she took a moment and silently prayed Chibs would come through. Her mind went to possible scenarios of how things would pan out if he didn't. In the unlikely event of her walking away, she had no doubt Clay would kill her if any significant harm came to his men.

Her conscience bit at her. Angry for bringing in other people to her shit-storm but she barely had a chance to finish her self-flagellating thoughts, before the garage door burst open and a grenade of daylight exploded.

On autopilot she and Tig leapt up and over the boxes. He fired four quick shots, sharing them equally between on guy on the catwalk stairs and then the one below them, as Leni rapidly pulled the trigger on her own gun.

Sending one bullet into the Asian looking guy stalking the floor, and another into his shorter friend a few feet behind him.

As expected, her gun clicked empty and in one fluid movement she dropped it, sweeping her arm around her back to grab her sidearm as she turned and shot a guy stalking up on Juice, in the side of the head.

Happy effortlessly fired into two guys at the back of the room who were diving for cover. Clipping both of them clean in the back and side of the head as Half-Sack and Chibs dived out of the van and began to fire on anything left that wasn't a patched biker.

Their sudden appearance and wealth of unspent bullets allowed them to easily removing five or six targets themselves. Helping bring a quick and efficient end to the stand-off.

Leni and Sons accurately fired over and over until every last threat was dropped to the floor, and one by one their guns clicked empty and the sound of gunfire slowly petered out. Leaving the warehouse suddenly silent and eerie.

In the skirmish Tig had gained a nasty graze on his head, adrenaline was too thick in his veins to feel pain but he felt the warm of the blood on his face and touched it. Seeing red staining his fingers, he growled deeply. His eyes shooting to Leni, his mouth ready to open and start shouting the odds at her for nearly getting them all killed but he stopped himself. She wasn't bleeding from anywhere but the look on her face said she was hurting well enough.

"What the fuck happened ladies?" Chibs yelled as reloaded his gun, in case of any stragglers.

"Don't ask!" Leni sighed, stowing her side arm before rushing over to Juice with Happy at her heels.

Tig stood watching, while they helped him up and checked out the injury he'd sustained. There was a lot of blood but he still had color in his face and somehow he was smiling. The bullet had ripped through, causing a nasty but non-serious graze.

Leni felt her stomach knotting over and over, feeling horrible that he'd been hurt in her name. She was about to ask if he was okay when he beamed at her excitedly. "That was awesome!" Having had a front row seat for the big finish.

She couldn't avoid laughing, his smile was so infectious and energizing. "You alright?" She asked, checking out his arm that was covered in blood.

"I'm fine. It's a scratch!" He assured, knowing it was a bit more than that but not wanting to make a bigger deal out of it than necessary. Leni knew he was being brave but didn't question it. She just gave him a warm, grateful smile. Making a mental note to try and make it up to him somehow, even though she knew he'd probably suffered a lot worse in the line of duty for SAMCRO.

"Is this what I think it is?" Asked Chibs, looking around at all the chemicals stacked up, the dead labcoates and guards.

"If you think it's a crack factory, _yeah!_" Tig said, eyeballing Leni with the familiar strange haze coming over him again.

Carefully, she guided Juice though the carpet of bodies and her eyes caught on Tig. On seeing the blood at the side of his face, she felt numb inside. She didn't want to see him hurt, unless she was the one to make him bleed. As much as she disliked him for everything he'd said and done, he didn't deserve to be injured. Especially not by someone else's hands while he was helping her out. She would _however_, have no qualms in injuring him personally if he started his bullshit with her again.

Turning away from him -not liking the emotions surfacing inside her- she helped Happy pass Juice off to Half-Sack and then walked over to the stations of laboratory equipment; looking around with purpose. The smell of blood was beginning to compete with the chemicals as she wandered through the carnage. Looking for the man with a bandage on his arm.

The Sons watched her from where they stood around the van as she looked over the bodies for a moment or two until she stopped and crouched down beside a corpse. She took out her flick-knife and cut off the bandage. She knew it wasn't going to help anything, but she needed to know to satisfy her curiosity and be sure these men were the cause of her problems.

Freeing the white fabric from the dark skin, she saw all she needed to see. The teeth marks in his arm were undeniably canine. An odd sensation came over her, relief for knowing the bastard that murdered her dog was dead, but remorse was stronger. Hurt for not getting to him sooner and preventing the events in the warehouse, at her home and all the damage that had happened to her club in the last few months.

She dropped the man's arm, pocketed the knife and stood up. Her eyes glared viciously at the cooling body by her feet. He was dead -no question about it- but that didn't feel like enough. In all the chaos, she couldn't be sure she was the one who'd killed him.

Her hand went for the revolver in her jeans and she checked the chamber - one bullet left.

Without a seconds thought she fired into the forehead of the man at her feet. Wishing she'd had a chance to punish him before he checked out. Callously, she spat in the dead man's face and turned away.

The Sons looked at one another questioningly, exchanging raised eyebrows and curious expressions for a moment before their eyes went back to her. Watching as she picked her way through the sea of corpses and began to pull the trays of drying cocaine out from under heat lamps. It was good for nothing and in a bid to release some pent up frustration, she smashed it on the floor. Causing the damp white powder mixed with rivers of blood.

Again, the men looked at each other. Each easily guessing this would be the point when she started wrecking the place to get rid of the unspent aggression and remaining adrenaline. They'd all been there, and couldn't deny the destruction looked like fun.

Tig was trying not to smirk, unsure of what feeling he wanted to go with as he watched her work. If one of his brothers had taken to wrecking the place he would have smiled and enjoyed the show; he maybe would have joined in. To see her do it, felt strange. He'd seen women trash places before, his ex-wife was a woman who loved to smash and throw things at him -his daughters too- but this was different. It wasn't entirely heat-of-the-moment rage, it was more like calculated -_controlled_- wrath.

She stepped up to a collection of huge plastic barrels, containing the flammable chemicals used to produce and cut the cocaine. Taking out her knife again, she stabbed it into the side of the container and watched as clear liquid spluttered out from the hole.

"What are you doing?" Tig asked out before he could stop himself.

"Cleaning up!" She growled. Still angry and eager to leave a mark for whoever might still be out there. She couldn't be sure whoever sanctioned the attacks on her and her club was amongst the dead bodies; she had to leave her mark and make sure her surviving rivals -and the police- only had ashes to sift through. "Take whatever you can sell...the rest is getting lit up like July fourth!"

Tig smiled slyly; sickeningly impressed by how she was acting. He wanted so much to still feel the hate for her. His mind scrambled to make him recall the anger he felt when she'd played him in the garage and laid him down in front of his friends, but he couldn't quite reach it. Maybe it was the cut on his head or the effects of adrenaline but for that moment, seeing her in such a way -all fired up and focused on burning the place to the ground- he couldn't feel the animosity inside.

In fact, he liked what he saw - it turned him on. Without rhyme or reason that kind of _stimulation_ almost always took the controlling stake in his head and suddenly, the tiniest part of him -that was frequently oppressed by all his anger, issues and chauvinism- realized he could possibly come to like that side of her.

_Sort of_, maybe - _eventually_...Perhaps.

She seemed to be in her element, laying waste to bad guys and wrecking all they'd built. Smashing the shit out of chemical glass ware and lamps. Tipping over tables and work benches, kicking buckets and barrels that got in the way of her destruction.

As she destroyed, his brothers set about freeing part of the crumpled metal doors from under the van. While others raided the place for the cut and bagged supply of cocaine, but Tig just stood and enjoyed watching Leni tear the place apart.

He did appreciate an angry woman, when the anger wasn't directed at him of course. He always found himself smirking when the croweaters got pissy and started throwing their shoes at him or one of his brothers. Watching Leni unleash her anger on the place was _very _entertaining and oddly arrousing.

Satisfied that everything was completely ruined, she stopped and looked up at the ceiling curiously.

Amongst the silver ventilation ducks and pipes, her eyes found what she was looking for and trailed it across the roof to the wall. Stepping gracefully around dead bodies and debris -as if she was sweeping through nothing more than piles of fallen leaves- she followed it. Moving with a surprising grace, as she made her way to the far wall of the warehouse, where a collection of thin pipes ran down the wall and into the floor.

She selected the middle one - tapped on it and smiled. Tig frowned, intrigued as to what she'd seen and what she was planning. Watching even more curiously as she began to drag one of the flammable barrels over to the van. Positioning it at the tail-end, just to the side where it wouldn't be knocked over when they reversed out of the building.

She then looked around for a moment to check where the men were, before picking up a crowbar -which had likely been used to open the crates of solvents- and walked back to the pipes. With no hesitation, she jammed it behind the one she'd tapped and began to pump the bar, working the pipes fittings out of the breezeblock wall.

Chibs finished loading up some slabs of coke -that they could sell on to Leroy or Alvarez for a tidy sum- and looked to Tig with a frown. They didn't quite know what Leni was doing, but she definitely looked good doing it.

One foot braced against the wall as she put all her strength into jemmying the pipe free. The muscles in her arms and shoulders tensed and straining as she tried not to growl in the struggle.

"Should we help?" Half-Sack asked.

"No!" Happy said flatly. "Let her get on with it." He knew her well enough to know the determined look in her eye meant she was too fired up and would possibly smack an offer of help in the face.

The pipe gave and a low hiss and began to echo around the warehouse and suddenly it all made sense. She wasn't lying when she said she'd blow the place to hell.

Quickly Chibs jumped back behind the wheel of the van and started the engine before the gas over took the building. Knowing the spark of the engine ignition could blow them all up too.

Leni jumped over a few boxes -cutting out some distance- and ran to the van. Stopping to jab her knife into the side of the barrel she'd placed, letting the dangerous liquid spurt out and pour into the yard outside.

As quick as she could, she jumped in behind Half-Sack and checked around -taking a mental headcount- to make sure everyone was safely inside before grabbing an handgun from the bag on the floor. She leant back against the cold metal of the vans interior as it started to move, allowing her to take a moment to relax enough to drawn in a calming breath. Which did little to settle the jittery feeling inside.

Knowing time was of the essence, Chibs quickly reversed out into the daylight and spun the wheel, bringing the van side on with the warehouse -ready to speed away out onto the nearby highway- giving Leni all the opening she needed to finish the job.

From the side door of the van, Leni took aim on quickly approaching trail of liquid and fired. One bullet hit the cement ground, then a second before the spark took. Creating a flame that quickly caught and ran up the wet streak, rushing the barrel that would trigger a double explosion.

On the sound of the second bullet, Chibs slammed his foot on the gas pedal and fled out of the lot just as the fire took the barrel. A loud boom erupted, only a second before the invisible gas in the air ignited.

There was a moments silence before the second explosion burst to life with deafening volume. The blast wave hit them hard, shaking the van as it took the corner on two wheels. Sending Leni almost crashing into Tig's lap but she grabbed the interior door handle saving herself.

Their eyes locked and Tig smiled deviously at her; his mind in only one place for the first time in days. _The gutter. _

"Don't say a Goddamn word!" She warned, the slightest hint of playfulness in her eyes. Almost able to read the thoughts dancing around in his dirty mind.

The adrenaline was obviously effecting her judgment because she couldn't deny he looked good - even covered in blood. There was a cockiness about him that she hadn't seen before. Something that said he was marginally impressed and somewhat aroused by her behavior. She could see none of his usual aggression and hostility; surprisingly he looked fairly content.

Maybe she'd got him wrong, maybe he hadn't been looking for a chance to kill her, and make it look like an accident. Perhaps she was starting to earn a little of his respect after all. She laughed to herself and shook the crazy idea from her head.

However, as soon as that flash of insanity passed, another stepped in. Something inside told her that if they had been by themselves in the van, she would have been on her back. Half naked with her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands all over her.

She didn't know what had come over her, the adrenaline had definitely addled her brain, but in that moment -looking into his lustful blue eyes- she was wishing the other men away.

**A/N:** Thanks for reading, hope you guys enjoyed the two chapters. As always, I'd love to know what you guys think. The next few chapters are my favorites that I've written so far, it's where the fun stuff starts! ;o)


	14. Chapter 13: Organized Crime

Hey all! As always, **big** thanks to those of you who reviewed and followed on the last chapter. You're awesome!

I have to say sorry for my slack updating, June was a crazy month for me and I'm just now managing to get back on top of everything. As promised, the time has come to open up Leni's world a bit more and I hope I've made it easy enough to imagine the new places we're going into.

_**Also, **_in the first half of this chapter, there are a couple of paragraphs about where Clay's mind is at with Leni. I just thought I should clarify that what is said in regard to early clubs is in fact true. So don't go flaming me, I've done my research.

Oh and..._"slab-it"_ means to ride on highways.

**•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•  
Heavy Metal Lover by Lady Gaga**

_Dirty Pony I can't wait to hose you down_  
_You've got to earn your leather in this part of town_  
_Dirty pearls and a patch for all the Rivington Rebels_  
_Let's raise hell in the streets drink beer and get into trouble_

_I could be your girl girl girl girl girl girl_  
_But would you love me if I ruled the world world world?_  
•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Thirteen || **Organized Crime**

Chibs managed to make it back to the Teller-Morrow lot without any residual problems. The fear of cops and rivals had been high, but thankfully the road home from the outskirts of Sacramento was smoother than expected. Although the seating arrangement in the back of the van had been more than a little awkward for Tig and Leni.

In a haze of fading adrenaline they sat, trying to avoid eye-fucking each other. Both of them dealing with a myriad of thoughts and feelings about one another and all that had happened that afternoon and in the days before. It was funny how a crisis situation could start to change even the most firmly held points of view.

Once they were safely back at the clubhouse, SAMCRO's chief battlefield medic set to work straight away. He'd been lucky enough to escape unscathed and was eager to make a start on patching up Juice's arm.

The cut on Tig's head was starting to sting as he dropped himself down at a table next to Happy, watching as Bobby and Half-Sack plied everyone with much needed drinks. It was already becoming a struggle to not allow the pain to sour him, since the heat of the moment had evaporated away.

Knocking back a whiskey, he turned himself a little to watch Leni dutifully assist Chibs. He could clearly see she was feeling guilty about Juice being injured while helping fix her club's problems. The expression on her face and the way she carried herself seemed softer than he'd seen before -skulking almost- putting him in mind of a scolded puppy. It was a stark contrast from how he'd seen her behave in the warehouse less than an hour earlier, and it served to only deepen his curiosity and attraction.

He didn't know what was happening to him but the hot -bitter- anger he felt towards her was steadily fading away, as if something was turning down the gas supply that fed it. He really wanted to keep hold of the strong resentment he felt towards her, she deserved it after all! Not just for what she'd done to him a few nights ago but because he was now sitting there with a gash on his head as thanks for fighting her club's battles.

Even though he'd volunteered to ride along with her, it had been _her_ mistake to walk them into an ambush. He should have been furious about it all, blowing up in her face and using it as a way to turn the club against supporting her, but he couldn't quite get there.

It made all the sense in the world to be angry at her but he spark wasn't catching. It was getting harder to continue to dislike her as she consistently proved herself to him. When she first walked on the lot the mere suggestion that a woman could have earned a patch seemed ridiculous,_ a joke_. Yet slowly she was showing him that she wasn't a easy mark, or a weak link. She could hold her own and seeing it for himself was steadily beginning to turn resentment into admiration.

She'd handled the situation in the warehouse with skills worthy of anyone's respect. He knew they would have got out somehow -_they always did_- but she had thought fast in the midst of chaos and pulled it out of the bag when they needed it. He had to cut her some slack for that at least; even if the misogynistic voice in his head could still do nothing but bitch about how wrong it all was.

How a woman had no business being in a shootout; how she'd almost got them all killed. How she surely couldn't do _all _that was expected of a man in their world. How he should have hated and rejected her taking the lead and barking orders, and how wrong it was to find her dominance over the testing situation a positive, a very arousing quality

Having patched up the graze on Juice's shoulder, Chibs sent him on with some painkillers to wash down with his beer and then turned his attention and medical services to Tig. "How's your head brother?"

"S'aight!" Tig shrugged, not willing to show any sign of suffering or weakness with _her_ around. Chibs patted the chair in front of him, instructing the wild haired biker to come and take a seat so he could get a good look at the scratch.

Leni looked to Tig nervously, she didn't want to get involved with fixing him up -knowing it would again pull her focus to the stir of feelings inside her- but it was her fault he'd been hurt. She couldn't help care for one Son and not another, she had to suck it up and help out. Even if she knew the struggle to ignore the growing warmth for him inside her, would sap what little fight she had left.

She saw Chibs looking at her expectantly, as he wiped away the excess blood around Tig's wound. She couldn't pull away without causing drama -and potentially damaging the relationships she'd fought to build- so she pushed back her hesitation and stepped forward ready to assist.

Her mind had been all over the place in the back of the van, the aftermath of such a rush always kicked her more primal instincts into high gear. The thoughts that came to her mind about him and the sensations the feel of his eyes cultivated inside made her very uncomfortable. She couldn't afford to even consider the kind of ideas that sparkled in her mind. It was too risky to get involved with a man or any kind, particularly one in a kutte. They way her feelings toward him were transitioning was troubling, and something inside told her it would only get worse, before it got better.

"Can you push the sides together while I glue it." Chibs asked, snapping her out of her brief introspection.

She really didn't want to get that close to Tig -in the back of her mind there was still a worry that he was looking for an opportunity for revenge- but she tuned out of her thoughts and stepped in to stand between his legs. Holding her breath and hoping he'd keep his mouth shut.

Chibs tilted Tig's head back for treatment before positioning her fingers in the right place. Instinctively Leni leaned forward -to maintain contact- bringing her breasts to just inches away from Tig's face. She immediately felt heat swell across her chest and she locked her jaw tightly, biting back her reaction. Wishing she'd had the foresight to wear a crew neck t-shirt that day and not the deep V number she had on.

She forced herself to keep cool and ignore the heat rising through her. She wasn't sure if it was lust or anger, and truth be told, she didn't _want _to know either. He was starting to stir so many things inside her, she knew it was safer to ignore it and push through, rather than meet it head on and face the fallout. So, she tapped in to her inner business woman, demanded that she kept coold, and focused her eyes on Chibs and the task in hand. Watching the Scotsman as he looked through his glasses to at the small cut on Tig's forehead; assessing the damage.

"Hold it firm for me darlin'..." He said softly. She heard Tig give a faint chuckle at the innuendo he'd found in his brothers words, and her eyes rolled.

Checking she was holding the right amount of pressure, Chibs bought up a small tube of surgical glue which would seal the cut better than anything else. She braced herself as Chibs squeezed on a small amount of the gel, _dangerously_ close to her finger tips.

"_Woah!_ Don't stick me to his head." She cried.

Tig gave a little laugh from underneath her. "Please do!" He purred and Leni tipped her head down to find his eyes devouring her breasts, which were almost pushed up flush against his face. His hands were tingling with the desire to grab at her, and she didn't need more than a second to know exactly where his mind was.

The fire inside licked at her mouth but she forced it back down and just narrowed her eyes at him warningly, but he wasn't concerned and simply smirked back. The look in his eye seemed to be daring her to make a complaint and she wasn't going to bite.

There was a weird kind of fragile truce settling between them, after everything that happened between them it felt unnatural for things to be so calm. Her understanding of combat told her he was likely just circling his wagons, gathering himself for his next attack, and lulling her into a false sense of security as he did so.

She knew knew that any snide remark would tip the balance quickly and bring back the drama she didn't need, so she kept her mouth firmly closed. She knew well that silence was often the more sensible -and safer- option. _Besides_, she owed him something for not jumping at the chance to screw her over in the shootout. There was also a possibility -albeit a small one- that supporting her when she needed him was some kind of peace offering. So, if a cheap thrill eased the pain of the gash on his head, then she would play things safe and not deny him.

She swallowed her tongue and pulled her eyes away -struggling with the rebel inside her that still demanded she give him a piece of her mind- as Chibs finished up. He could sense she was uncomfortable and was trying with all she had not to bust Tig in the mouth as he ogled her brazenly.

"All done! You can let go."

Leni breathed a sigh of relief and stepped off Tig straight away. He sat up straight and gave her a wolfish smile, with the same teasing look in his eyes. He couldn't deny it was almost worth all the bullets and bloodshed just to get and up close and personal with her assets.

He opened his mouth to make an instinctual, smart mouthed -sexist- comment but the door swung opened and Clay stormed in with Jax hot on his heels.

"What the hell happened?" The president barked. Looking around to see the blood and exhaustion across the bar room.

"Followed the guy to a cook shop..." Happy spoke up. "...A heavily armed, cook shop."

"Jesus Christ!" Jax hissed.

"Yeah...it blew up!" Juice said and a ripple of hushed laughter went around the room.

"What did you do?" Clay asked, looking at Leni with a shot of anger and a dash of concern. Wondering what lengths they had gone to, in order to get the job done.

"We took care of it." She told as pulled off the latex gloves she wore, looking up to see Clay's face was demanding that she gave more information. "...I'm pretty sure they were the guys pullin' the shit on my club." She affirmed. "It was packed with black, brown and white guys...The dude with the prints on the knife? He had a buddy with a bite on his arm..." Clay's eyes sparked making the connection before she said it. "...Which I'm pretty sure my dog did...He had the links back to my club, and a motive...we got the evidence...so we...er..._dismantled..._their operation..."

Clay could only imagine what she meant by that. "Am I going to be readin' about this over breakfast tomorrow?"

"Probably!" Chibs threw in. Guessing that a huge warehouse explosion with a shit-ton of dead bodies inside was likely to make the newspapers.

Jax and Clay glanced at each other, both concerned about the possibility of blow back on their club. However, they both knew everyone involved was smart enough to cover their tracks to minimize the risks of any trouble following them home.

As if reading their minds, Leni spoke up. "We made sure there was no one left to ID us...We weren't followed...didn't see any cameras around either..." She assured. "There's nothing to tie back to either of our clubs without a connection to the knife...and the only people who know about any of this are your guys and mine..." Clay nodded, reassured.

"What about the Japanese guy they worked for?" Jax asked.

"He's the wild card..." Leni said trying to hold back a sigh, knowing that was a very big bridge she'd have to cross somewhere down the line. "...I put in a call to Finn on the way back, he's gonna to try and find out where he's at, so we can press him...See if he put all this shit against the club into motion or if these guys were working for themselves..." Jax nodded understandingly. "...But right now...offing some of his muscle bought us some time and I need a minute to patch up the holes in the boat before we go stormin' into rough seas again."

The guys nodded, completely understanding what she was saying. The Saints were spread thin with money problems threatening to break them. She need a chance to regroup and strengthen her own organization before risking taking on more trouble.

"The immediate threat seems to have been dealt with..." She continued. "...So right now Freddie Takahasi isn't my priority..."

The men all seemed relieved for her, but the words she spoke made Tig stomach drop like a rock. If they'd removed the threat, and her club was in the clear again, then she wouldn't need the Sons anymore. She'd be gone in no time! The thought of that made his gut solidify with an emotion he couldn't name.

He'd spent so long being angry and resentful and wishing her away; now he was faced with her departure the idea of her walking out the clubhouse door and never coming back felt cold and wrong. He knew it was insanity, he knew he should hate her and want her as far away as possible, but the truth was he felt like he'd miss her..._maybe_. If nothing else, she kept his mind busy and without her to focus on, he was scared to think of how quickly his thoughts would recede into it the dark lonely places.

"You_ sure_ they were the right guys?" Bobby asked from behind the bar.

Leni nodded. "Pretty sure...but I guess time will tell."

Tig almost opened his mouth to ask '_how much time?' _but he stopped himself_. _He need an idea of what he was working with. How much longer he had to sort his head out and understand what she was doing to him. He wanted time to see more of what she was made of, and perhaps straighten things out between them. Deep down he wanted her to trust him the way she seemed to trust everyone else around them.

He didn't entirely regret his actions towards her and he wasn't going to surrender but he was starting to wonder what might happen if they could move beyond the cutting looks and snarled words. Curiosity was hopelessly overwhelming his resentment and his aggressive cravings, to succumb to the hungry of wanting to know more about how she earned the right to lead in a world of male dominance. The urge to understand her, was becoming as powerful as his desires to get to know her in other -_more_ _intimate_- ways.

"You're making a run for the coast tomorrow, right?" Jax asked Leni as he put a cigarette in his mouth.

"Yeah...Gotta deliver a shipment and make some Goddamn money." She sighed. She knew cash was the only thing that currently kept her club in good favor with their allies and was maintaining loyalty internally too. Money made the world go round and the MC was in dire need of a cash injection.

"You think any of this'll blow back on it?

Leni shook her head. "I ain't ruling it out, but we off'd everyone there and burned the place to the ground...it'll take 'em while to pin it on anyone..." Jax nodded. "...The run is on a '_need-to-know'_, so I'm hoping it'll be drama free..."

"Take whoever you need..." Clay offered, a little concerned that there could still be trouble coming her way. "...Just in case!"

Leni gave a soft, grateful smile. "To be honest, I need a lotta hands on deck to assemble and pack...We work to a tight schedule."

Clay nodded in understanding. "You gonna be alright Juicey?"

"Yeah!" He chirped, still buzzing from the action. "I'll be fine!"

"Good!" Clay nodded. "Then you guys go with her, tomorrow night!" Leni felt a faint wave of positivity flood into her, then she realized that _'you guys' _included Tig and her relief turned to worry. Again, she'd need eyes in the back of her head. The odd look on his face had her a little concerned about what was going on inside his head; worrying that his thoughts could be a threat to her.

"Saturday?" Half-Sack chirped up, confused.

"Yep! Cops are too busy with drunk drivers and bar fights to be out waiting to stop check trucks...and no one is gonna attempt a raid on a nightclub on a Saturday night when it's packed out!" She told and it made perfect sense.

Tig scowled with new concern and older resentments surfacing. It sounded risky, and he wasn't sure how he liked the idea of riding out on a gun run with her and her club. Missing a good time at the clubhouse in favor for following her into the unknown and possibly deadly world she operated in.

Yet he knew that since she'd arrived he'd wondered how she managed to keep a hold on the gavel. How the hell the men in her club had submitted to a female leader. How she did business with shady characters and earned their respect too. Now was his chance to see for himself -to possibly prove himself right about her lack of leadership ability- and there wasn't a single part of him that could raise his voice to turn down the opportunity.

•••••••••••••••••••

The Friday night crowd started to roll in early -knowing the party would be impressive once church was concluded- filling the common room with crow-eaters, hang-arounds and a few visiting nomads. Having dealt with SAMCRO's own business, Chibs opened the door on the noise and allowed Leni to enter the chapel and fill the Sons in on her clubs run arrangements.

She took the guests seat at the top of the table -besides Piney- and glanced around the men who would provide her support. They were all smoking cigarettes or sipping drinks but each set of eyes were on her, ready to pay attention. Clay had a particular interest -although he wasn't going on the run- he didn't want to be in the dark about what his men were doing, or where they would be.

He was fairly confident that thing's wouldn't blow up on the run, but he wanted to make sure she left nothing to chance, and he was also interested to see just how much her father had taught her. When she first showed up at the clubhouse, she had explained to him all about the deals she had in motion, -who was who; what was what- but he was keen to see how his men responded; particularly his right hand man. Who was obviously reluctant to support Leni but was too curious to physically walk away.

Clay himself had some misgivings about a young woman leading a pack of outlaws, but he still remembered how some of the very first clubs had originally allowed a few females to be fully patched members; he also knew that some of them were even office bearers. Of course, that was back when it all began; when a club was more about partying and fixing bikes than orchestrating illegal activities and dodging bullets. However, he knew if SAMCRO and the one per-center world as a whole was to survive against all that tried to kill it, they would have to move with the times. Women were consistently proving they could be equal to men and he had a feeling it wouldn't be long before the old ways returned.

As traditional as his values were when it came to his own club, he had to wonder if the Devil's Saints weren't on to something by allowing Leni to scrape away and repaint a world that had been covered in layers of sexism and segregation for years.

He smiled thinking to himself, wondering if Tig knew what a minor threat he was when compared with all the things she'd dealt with before him. He had heard about what she'd been through over the years; how she'd been hurt just for being her father's daughter. Her encounters with rival clubs and the men who felt threatened by a woman becoming their equal, and wanted to hurt her to prove a point. He knew how she'd suffered and bled to gain -and maintain- her place in their world. He had to respect that.

He also knew how hard her father had worked to make sure that she was never a soft target. Training her so that she knew how to defend herself from physical threats as well as ones that came with a suit or a badge. Loading her with the street-smarts she needed to outwit rivals _and_ Johnny Law, without the need to resort to violence. _Brains before bullets._

"So..." Instantly eyes were on Leni and she was acutely aware of Tig's attentions. His blue eyes burning hot on her skin. "...I've had a deal with this guy..._Sasila_...for almost three years now...He's a big dick in the NPA."

"The NPA?" Juice asked with a confused frown.

"The New People's Army...Indonesian Guerrillas."

"Guerrillas?" Bobby asked with raised eyebrows; it sounded messy.

Leni nodded. "...Didn't think it would be very lucrative when it started...but _turns out_...there's a lot of money in civil unrest!" Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Who knew?" Juice laughed with Leni and Tig clenched his jaw. Moving his hand up to gently stroke his eyebrow, trying to soothe the irritation knocking around in his head.

"So, how do they get the guns?" Jax asked.

"Well...we get the HK's in from our German contact and the M16's come from our guy at the factory in Connecticut...He supplies most of our charters on the east coast and manages to have some _fall-off-the-truck_ on the way to Camp Pendleton..." She said, making Clay's mind fill with ideas of opportunity. "...We have a legit haulage company pick up the shipments and bring them to us..." She didn't need to spell it out for everyone to know the guns would be cleverly disguised. "...And we have our own illegals pressin' ammo five days a week..." The men exchanged quick glances with one another; it certainly sounded like she had a full plate and her fingers in a lot of pies.

"We fix the HK's up and re-pack everythin'...then make the run out to the coast to a quiet little bay...The buyer shows up in a boat and takes 'em off our hands..." She told, like it was no big deal. "I don't know the ins and outs of things on their side...but from what I hear they've got someone on their port authority on their payroll...and it's mostly international waters so the coastguard can't do shit."

"Cunning!" Happy said.

Leni nodded with a smile in her eyes. "It's my middle name." She joked and Tig's eyes narrowed again; Happy wasn't wrong about that. "We try and turn it around in one night. It's a tall order but it's safer than sittin' on the stock for too long." The men nodded in understanding. "...We put the guns together in the back of The Ace...Security's tight and so far we've moved the cargo in and out without anyone batting an eyelid...ATF, Feds, PD?...They know raidin' us while we're open would be a massive cluster-fuck, so it's the perfect cover..." Tig felt words of defiance rush to his tongue but he swallowed them down. She was shrewd and confident; he didn't know if it was an attractive quality, or a scary one.

Leni reached across and took a map from Juice, standing up to smooth it out in the middle of the table and point out the route they would take. "...We run it standard..." She told. "...Keepin' away from mutli-lanes much as possible on the way out..." As she leaned over the map Tig's eyes were drawn to her cleavage again. Remembering the faint smell of her perfume and the warmth from her body as she helped tend to his wounds. The valley between her pert breasts temporarily mesmerizing him as she went on to explain the plan. "...Should take a little under three hours to get out there..." She said, trying not to get fired up by the way Tig's eyes shameless stared at her tits for the second time in less than a few hours. "...We got the exchange down to take about twenty minutes...We'll slab-it on the way back and we should be home by dawn."

"Sounds good." Chibs offered as Leni sat back down, taking her assets out of Tig's eye-line.

"You're going through Fairfield?" Piney spoke up, with a concerned frown. Leni turned her head to him and nodded, already knowing what he was worried about. "That's the Six-Sixty-Sixer's territory...I thought you had beef with them?"

"Yeah, we used to. It adds an hour to the journey to try and avoid the place, so it ended up being easier to buy 'em off, than be out on the road longer than necessary..." Piney understood, but he wasn't comfortable with the idea. "...And this is why I need to make some money..._fast_...gotta lot of people to keep in good favor..." Tig noticed how her tone and expression softened thoughtfully, showing a glimpse of the worries she held inside.

"What about personal firepower?" Bobby asked. He wasn't going on the run but he was still concerned for the welfare of those around him.

Having never encountered problems before, Leni wasn't expecting trouble but she knew -now, more than ever- that it was an ever present possibility. "...We don't take anythin' extra than we'd normally carry..." Bobby nodded, that was exactly the way SAMCRO played it too. They didn't need to carry arms when they were running with a truck full of automatic weapons. "...The cargo is being dropped off at the Ace at nine, so we'll need to hit the track by eight..." The Sons were more than happy with the sound of that, knowing there was potential for a good Saturday lie in. "...The club'll be open, so with security there I can afford to pull in Finn and a couple of the other patches to help get this shit done..." The men nodded in understanding and she was done. "Anyone got any questions?" She offered.

"We gonna stop for something to eat on the way back?" Juice asked outright. "I always get hungry about four in the morning." The table laughed and groaned at his random input, making him feel about an inch tall.

Leni smiled at him. "I'm sure we can work that into the plan." She assured and Juice's face lit up. Tig bit down harder on his tongue, watching as Juice gave his stupid cheesy grin to Leni. He could tell she liked him. It didn't look like anything sexual but they got on well and that alone made Tig feel a hint of what he denied to be jealousy.

With everything covered and set in place, Leni and most of the Sons got up and headed out to the bar where the 'after-church-party' was about to get into full swing, but Tig remained seated with Clay. Allowing the others to get a head start on their plan of getting wasted -laid- and sleeping until late afternoon. Committing to be up just in time to get dressed, fed and watered, then hit the road to Sacramento.

Once the door fell closed Clay looked to Tig; it was obvious he had something weighing on his mind. It didn't take a psychic to figure out what.

"_So_...how are things with you two now?" Clay asked, picking up his cigar.

Tig gave a look of dismissal and put a hand to his forehead, dropping his eyes a little. "I dunno..._same_." He shrugged; he didn't really want to get into it, but before he could stop himself his mouth was opening. "One minute I hate her and want to kill her, the next minute..." He closed his mouth before he spilled all the vulgar desires he had for her inside his head. Hoping to keep those thoughts along with the disturbing emotional concerns -and confusing fondness that he was slowly becoming aware of- hidden from his leader.

Clay smiled; he could read Tig better than anyone. He knew how much he wanted Leni, it was obvious. However he also knew Leni well enough to know Tig was wasting his time. "She's a sensible girl, Tiggy...she doesn't get involved with men in kuttes..." He told.

Tig looked up at the ceiling for a moment and rubbed his fingers over his moustache thoughtfully. He would have felt disappointed but he wasn't sure if he actually wanted them to get_ 'involved'_. Yet he knew something had to change between them, and he certainly wanted to fuck her - _at least once_.

"I need you to watch her..." Clay added. "...Have her back...So whatever happened between you two the other night, don't let it fuck up this deal!" Tig didn't react, he wasn't appreciative of the order but he knew better than to be insubordinate. Ever since his mistake with Donna a few weeks earlier, he'd sensed the president was starting to question him and he didn't want to rock a boat which had yet to settle. "We're getting a shitload of money for helping her out with this...And I don't want your hunger for her pussy fuckin' it up!"

Tig growled low in his chest; he didn't like being faced with how transparent he could be. "We done?" He asked, trying to control his bubbling anger. Clay nodded dismissing him and instantly Tig was up on his feet and out the door.

Walking out of the chapel with a tension in his shoulders, he was both surprised and relieved to see that Leni was nowhere around. He was going to see more than enough of her in the coming night and he needed time to try and get a grip of what he was feeling and thinking to make sure he could guarantee obeying Clay's orders. He needed some space and a calming distraction in the shape of a pretty little red head who's body he wasn't yet familiar with.

•••••••••••••••••••

The night sky was an unfamiliar shade of gray and air smelled oddly damp -threatening rain- as the bikers parked their rides. Shadowed in a dark service alley, that ran alongside the huge building which housed The Flaming Ace nightclub.

Wasting no time, Leni lead the way down some concrete steps to a set of reinforced fire doors. She punched in a code to a keypad on the wall and the lock clicked open. As she pushed through into the building music with pumping base flooded out into the night air. It was barely nine o'clock but already the place was packed. Cleverly planned drinks promotions and a low cover charge made sure the place was filled to capacity as a deterrent against law enforcement raids.

Walking into the dimly lit corridor, Leni nodded over to two big, bald guys in black suits who sat inside a small office monitoring security cameras. The five supporting bikers followed as she lead the way up a slight ramp, past the bathrooms and out into a cavernous room filled with flashing lights, pounding music and gyrating bodies.

A long -well stocked- bar lined one side of the room facing into a huge dance-floor which was encircled by different heights of tables and various styles of seating from couches to bar stools. The Flaming Ace logo was incorporated into all the decor, even down to the cocktail stirrers. The swell of the custom designs all culminating in a huge black ace symbol that hung on the wall above the DJ booth, the silhouette etched out from a wall of raging orange flames.

Leni cut a path around the heart of the action, knowing that she and the bikers following her were far from inconspicuous, against the back drop of electronic pop music and mainstream fashions. Tig's eyes cautiously scanned the room, it felt like a dangerous place to be. Too much noise, too many bodies, not enough light, unknown exits. If anything went down, they'd be in big trouble.

Despite Leni's attempts to move undetected, heads started to turn as the band of bikers strode through the club. Party goers who lived the straight life felt a wave of intimidation as the shadowy figures drifted around the perimeter of the action - like a pack of hungry lions at a watering hole.

Suddenly a man jumped out at Leni, the five bikers hands went for their weapons but in an instant they knew there was no danger. Dressed in an expensive suit with overly neat blond hair, he opened his arms out and he exchanged a hug with her, one which she didn't seem too keen on fully returning. They said a few words to each other, but the men couldn't hear and Tig scowled as Leni made a half-hearted _'call me'_ gesture and the biker train rolled on.

Tig cut the guy a shriveling look as he passed him, not sure who he was but already taking a dislike. As he followed Leni, he felt an odd mood settle on. He didn't want to be there, he could be back home getting wasted and fucking one of his favorite crow-eaters. Hell, he could be anywhere he pleased, but he wound up there -following her around, _again_- and he refused to let himself like it. He had no intention of being her bitch and he had no plans to go easy on her, just because they were on her turf. _Sure_, he was curious about how she worked things but it didn't mean he was rolling over for her to tickle his belly. _No way!_

She lead the Sons across the club to another set of double doors - guarded by yet more short haired, over-stuffed suits. They saw her coming and card swiped a door to open it for her and men to pass through into a beige corridor with soft strip lighting, away from all the noise and commotion of the club.

The Sons were clueless, but Leni knew exactly where she was going. Veering off to the left to a large chrome door with a security pad besides it. Tig cast a look to Chibs, both intrigued by the level of security afforded to her operation.

They relied on shady warehouses and shacks on wasteland to manage SAMCRO's gun running. Steel chains and padlocks secured their ill-gotten-gains, not fancy keypads and suited bouncers. Living off the grid in a small town allowed for lesser security measures. Setting up shop in the center of a big city however, called for hefty safeguards and it seems the Saints had left no base uncovered. Pumping every cent they earned back into making certain their operations were protected in every way possible, knowing the risks for a weak link in the chain were potentially deadly.

Leni held the door open for the men to move into a huge room that looked somewhat like a kitchen. Chrome surfaces with sliding doors hiding storage underneath, industrial stoves, some pots and pans on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. Everything looked clean and completely untouched; the only sign of use came from a cluster of boxes and a few bags up on the corner of one of the counters. Leni didn't say anything as she followed them inside, letting the heavy door click closed behind her.

She moved over to a panel on the wall and fired up a monitor which showed feeds from all the security cameras in the building. Then, she ducked down and opened up a cupboard underneath one of the counters and pulled out a small silver case. Popping it open she took and ear-piece with a curl of clear wire leading down to a radio pack which she clipped on her belt at the small of her back. Tig watched her every move, as she powered it up and checked in with the men outside the room who were the first line of defense against trouble.

Next, she flicked another switch on the panel and suddenly the music from the club room next-door filled the kitchen from speakers in the roof. Hearing what was going on outside gave Leni another level of security, she knew that if she music stopped they were under siege. She turned to speak with the Sons, to explain what would happen but suddenly there was a loud knock at the rear of the room where two large loading doors were located.

"Here we go!" Leni said with a soft smile, heading down to the back of the room to let her crew in. Tig stayed back at the top of the room; watching as Half-Sack hurried behind her to help open up the doors. Pulling them apart to reveal the inside of a small box truck. Finn stood inside smiling, with two other guys; only one of whom Tig recognized as Connie from the Mayan drama.

The new face was a man just a little taller than Juice, with an equally muscular body. He was Hispanic looking with slicked back, jaw length black hair and soft brown eyes; a heavy dusting of stubble covering his face. He was dressed similarly to everyone else in the room, a long sleeved black t-shirt rolled to his elbows, showing a forearm tattoo of his clubs insignia and a heavy leather cuff watch on his wrist. It seemed that Happy and Chibs already knew him, but Leni introduced her men to the other Sons, naming the new guy as 'Mooch'.

"Your delivery madame!" Finn joked, stepping out into the light. "Sign here?" He asked flashing her a clipboard which she slapped away playfully and moved in to give him a brief hug. Tig watched as the Saints and Sons greeted each other warmly for a moment before the men set to work rolling out pallets of tall chrome canisters -that were seemingly pressurized by the valves at the top- and big brown boxes labeled with familiar soft drink brands.

Leni wasted no time once the first load was off; she peeled away a label that wrapped around the top quarter of the canister and then felt for an almost invisible seam. The Sons watched curiously as she gripped the top portion and twisted hard. Popping it off with an audible hiss. Exchanging looks, the Sons wondered what the hell she was doing. Most knew from experience that those kind of canisters were not designed to open in such a way. And yet, Leni removed the top with ease; lifting it off to reveal that a wide tube made of black plastic sat inside; waiting like a prize inside an cereal box.

From the way the muscles in her forearm tensed the men could tell the tube was heavy but she showed no strain on her face as she pulled it out and bought it over to the kitchen island. The cluster of men moved over to watch what she was doing, as she twisted off the top of the tube and then tipped it up to pour out a pile of gun parts. She smiled to herself -relieved things were falling into place- and then looked to the men around her.

"Each canister and box holds separate HK parts..." She gestured to the goods being loaded into the room. Huge canisters of air to carbonate the soda the bar served and big boxes of the syrup used to make everyone's favorite fizzy soft drinks. The weight of each container holding the gun parts matched that which would be the noted weight for the original gas and syrup content. Giving none of the authorities a reason to check what was really inside each seemingly innocent container.

"If we get all the pieces out first, piecing it all together shouldn't take long..." She told and glanced over to the truck again where the men where removing wooden crates of different pre-assembled assault rifles; recently procured from the US military supply. "The M16's are ready assembled...and we've got ammo that needs wrappin' and boxin' and then we're good to go..." She looked to the men around her, who nodded acceptingly. "Let's get to work!"

On her word, Happy and Chibs went over to Finn to be shown how to liberate the parts from the canisters and boxes while Juice and Half-Sack went with Leni so she could show them how the ammo was to be packed. Yet Tig just sat up on a counter at the top of the room -where he had the best view- and watched.

He wasn't getting involved with the heavy lifting, he only did the dog work for Clay and his bosses orders were only to watch her, not _work for_ her. He was happy just to look on as the Saints unloaded the truck of all they needed and set to work with the Sons.

It didn't take more than a minute or two for a production line to form and things moved like a well oiled machine. Every man had experience of assembling weapons and there was no need for questions. Tig just glanced around at his brothers, all pulling their weight while he sat and enjoyed a cigarette.

His eyes kept focusing in on her and she could feel them burning deep into her skin as she worked, but she didn't let on. He watched as she lifted boxes without showing strain, her arms taught with well worked muscles. He couldn't deny that he wanted to touch and kiss every part of her but he'd be damned if he was going to be her compliant little slave for the night; no matter what gratitude it might buy him.

Leni tried her best to keep ignoring the singe of his eyes on her skin, and the way they seemed to peel off her clothes. She didn't need the distraction of him and his bullshit when they were all on the clock. She needed all hands on deck, and he was _supposed_ to be helping but it was obvious he had other ideas about his level of involvement.

She told herself not to bite on his bait as he sat there eyeballing her cockily, smoking a cigarette like nothing at all concerned him. She wanted to avoid conflict with him but he was pushing her buttons like an expert. She sighed before picking up a small stack of the wooden ammo trays and carrying them over to the only free patch of counter space, a couple of feet away from Tig. He looked so smug, sitting there relaxed while everyone else worked hard and fast to pull things together. Before she knew it, her mouth was moving and her thoughts were spilling out.

"You gonna help?" Leni asked, placing the crates down before crouching to pick out a new pack of towels from a box under the counter. His eyes were on her again, all hot and wanting.

"Nope!" Tig dismissed, lighting a cigarette. "I'm here to watch you, _not_ be your bitch!"

Leni scowled at him, grabbing the towels and standing straight again. His constantly shifting mood was tiring, as was his hard-on for irritating her.

"Well, can you stop eye fuckin' me then?" She asked boldly. "I can feel an STD coming on!"

Tig glared at her, his mouth taught and aggressive for a moment, before he let it go. He knew he couldn't afford to react, for many reasons. They had some serious unfinished business to take care of, but it was the wrong place and time to mouth off and start a fight, especially with so many of her men on site.

Deliberately or not, he knew she was pushing his buttons -just as he was hers- and he was under orders not to let their bullshit effect the task in hand. He really didn't want to piss off Clay by failing in another task he'd been given, and in order to keep on track he needed to focus all his energy on keeping his aggressive disposition in check. Doing his best to prevent his hands from reaching out and wrapping around her throat again. Not for her benefit, but for his own.

Without another word, Leni went back to the island where all the gun parts were being piled. Handing the towels to Mooch who dried off all the plastic tubes of icky brown syrup before tipping out the gun parts. Relieved to see all but one person happily and productively working - Leni picked up a few pieces and began to assemble one of many assault rifles herself.

Tig watched with dark eyes, feeling a tingling in his jeans at the image of a woman piecing together such a dangerous weapon. She was efficient; it looked as if she'd done it a million and one times. A fantasy of ripping her clothes off and fucking her on the counter amongst the gun parts, played out in front of his eyes for a moment. His chest rising and falling deeply as he tried to keep a grip on reality. He wasn't going to fall under her spell again; not without putting up a better fight this time. He needed to keep his 'downstairs-brain' in check, especially tonight with so much at risk.

"So what do we do with these now?" Chibs asked, placing another completed assault rifle down on the counter space that edged the room and glanced at all the guns and magazines laying there.

"Another truck will be here in a few...We plug up the guns, bag 'em and stuff 'em into the sacks." She pointed over to the far side of the room where a pile of burlap sacks were waiting. "...It's easier for them to smuggle weapons into the country if they're hidden in with things like rice and sugar." Chibs nodded, it made sense. "It should only take an hour or so..." Leni told. "...Then we can ride out for Bodega Bay and hopefully be home in time for breakfast!"

Tig cast his eyes to the clock on the wall; it was barely after ten! Another eight hours of her company seemed like too much to take but again, the thought of being anywhere else was impossible to call to mind. He wanted to see how she ran her ship; see for himself if she was worthy of sitting at the top of the Saints table. He knew he'd jumped to conclusions about how strong she was when cornered and under pressure but he was yet to see if she could organize her men -and his brothers- in a way worthy of such a title and the respect that went with it.

And if she failed to deliver? _Well_, he would take great pleasure in reminding her of a woman's real place in their world.

**A/N:** _The next chapter is one of my favorites that I've written so far, so if you're still with me and enjoying the ride, please let me know and I'll update ASAP._


	15. Chapter 14: A Midnight Run

Big thanks to everyone who fave'd/followed on the last chapter, extra special thanks to those of you who took a moment to leave a review and others who sent PM's etc. You guys are awesome!

This is one of my favourite chapters so far, and I just finished the first draft of chapter twenty-three so there are a few more favorites to come (editing/beta'ing and interest permitting of course) The latter half of this chapter pretty much wrote itself as the characters took over. So, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed the experience of writing it.

I forgot to mention last update that (as promised) I finally added some visuals of actors who kind of resemble how I imagine most of my current (and forthcoming) original characters. There's a link on my profile if anyone wants to take a look-see.

Shout out to Google Maps for helping me describe the route the bikers take in this chapter, since I've never set foot in Northern California.

Oh, and a tiny bit of trivia for y'all...Susila means "Good Character" in Javanese. Yuda means "War" in Indonesian. It's all in the details, baby! ;o)

******•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•**

**Pressure and Time by Rival Sons**

_Give me only what I need,_  
_It doesn't take too much to keep me satisfied._  
_Down to work for my money and earn my keep,_  
_Hunger's got a way to tame a man's pride._  
_(Can we build it up?)_  
_I know that we can,_  
_(Can we build it up?)_  
_Let's get to work every woman and man._  
_(Can we build it up?)_  
_With pressure and time,_  
_(Can we build it up?)_  
_I said I'm gonna get mine._

**•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•o•**

**Wicked Games** || Chapter Fourteen || **A Midnight Run**

Just as Leni predicted, the operation was a fast paced one that ran smoothly, as if the Sons had always been a part of the show. Tig had been sure not to lift a finger but was marginally impressed by how well things seemed to flow. Much to his annoyance, his brothers seemed be pulling their weight and working well under Leni's guidance.

Juice, Half-Sack and Connie had landed ammo duty, filling magazines with bullets. then wrapping the finished item in paper before laying it into the trays which were then hidden inside crates, under a layer of innocent looking fruit. While they did that, everyone else worked fast to assemble the last of the guns and lay the completed weapons out on the strip of designated counter. Leni made sure to clear away every trace of illegal activity, breaking down boxes, resealing the gas canisters and bagging up everything else to be put back into the truck, which would take all evidence of her smuggling operation away. Clearing the path for the final stages of the plan.

With the tasks coming naturally to everyone involved, it hadn't taken long for a production line to form and while they worked, the beers and banter between the Saints and Sons began to flow. They playfully mocked each other as they crafted each weapon, sharing funny stories and jokes. Something told Tig, that if times had been calmer for the Devil's Saints MC, there would have been even more fun filling the room. There was a lot of laugher and light horseplay filling the room, which was everything he'd come to be familiar with in his own world.

He noted that Leni seemed perfectly at home amongst the jokes and jibes; just as she had the night she'd taught the Sons to play her silly card game. She seemed much more relaxed than he was used to seeing, and he guessed it was due to having the company of the men she knew well.

He couldn't help but wonder if the men in her club ever took issue with her being involved in every aspect of outlaw life. They seemed remarkably at ease with her telling them what to do and joining in with the male banter. They didn't seem to treat her any differently than they did one another and he was curious about just how that came to be. Women had a place in their world -everyone who wore a patch knew it- and he was becoming increasingly more eager to know how she managed to break free of the segregation and essentially become just one of the boys.

His mind hazy with considerations, he studied her closely as she packed up and shipped off the first truck. Checking the room was clear before setting about helping Connie push small cork stoppers into the ends of the guns, then carefully cover them in saran-wrap. They were laughing about something but he couldn't pick it out above the noise everyone else was making.

When finished, Leni set the gun she'd wrapped down on the counter and moved past Connie as he reached for another weapon. Tig's eyebrows raised sharply when he saw Leni slap the Saint on the ass to get him to move out of her way, which made Connie's mouth drop open in a comical expression.

"Keep that up, I'm gonna to sue you for sexual harassment!" Connie joked, watching as Leni walked to the other end of the room -closer to Tig- to retrieve another box of corks.

"Oh, I'd love to see that!" She laughed, not even casting Tig a sideways glance as she approached. She seemed so much different around the people she knew. Lighter, in both burden and aura. Happier; showing the playful side of herself that hadn't has chance to surface in quite a while. "Your honour..." She said in a gruff voice, trying to mimic Connie. "I was just wrapping up these assault rifles when she came up behind me and slapped my ass..."

The men chuckled at her and looked to Connie for his reply. "Yeah, I see what you mean..." He dismissed with a smile and Tig's ears tuned out of the conversation to focus on her actions. Waiting to see if she'd do the same -or similar- to anyone else.

He wasn't sure how he'd react if she'd pulled that shit on him. Part of him would have grabbed her by the neck and thrown her into a wall for the insult. Another part -_the bigger part_- would have likely have smirked and took the opportunity to test just how far she was willing to go with such suggestive contact.

His mind wandered off again to where he changed places with Connie and ended the brief physical encounter by pinning her against the wall and having his way with her. A third person view of their bodies entangled danced across his eyes; her hands grabbing at his back as he worked out all his sexual frustrations on her.

With Tig busily fantasising at the far end of the room, the work went on. Once the last gun was built, Leni took the stage again and showed the Sons how the Saints secured their guns for shipping.

With Finn's help she demonstrating how they could tie four to six wrapped rifles together -depending on which size of sack they chose- and place the bundle of guns in the middle of a sack, before pouring in rice, sugar or oats, in around the rifles to support and disguise them.

It seemed easy enough and similar to things they'd done before; so the Sons paired up to join in the final process in the assembly line. Finding it surprisingly easy to disguise the weapons in food stuffs and making mental notes to remember it as an option for their own illegal enterprises in the future.

With their new task easily taken on, the banter quickly resumed. Sleeping late and the relaxed -_safe- _atmosphere had everyone sharing laughs, helping to sustain their positive and energetic moods.

"Does this DJ take requests?" Chibs asked Leni. Resisting the urge to complain about the incessant dance music that filtered softly into the room, and went towards giving him a headache.

"Er...I think so!" Leni shrugged; as she held a sack open for Finn to pour in rice. She wasn't responsible for the DJ's, or any of the day to day running of the club. Truth was, she never set foot in the place other than to fix guns, lay down the law or check on the books. "Why?"

"We should go ask them to play Hap's favorite song!"

The nomad looked up from the gun he was plugging and scowled, making Leni and the Sons laugh. Tig tensed; _again _with the banter with _his_ brothers.

Mooch instantly wanted to know what the joke was but Leni refused to give details -saving Happy's blushes- saying only that the inside joke was a result of a game of Shithead.

"Oh, say no more!" He dismissed. "She had me wearing a dress for a whole day once, so you got off light." The men laughed, looking to Happy who suddenly appeared far more content with the forfeit he'd been dealt.

In the corner, Tig sucked down his cigarette and cast his narrowed eyes away. He'd done some crazy shit in his time but it would be a cold day in hell that he'd submit to wearing a dress - even if she was doing the challenging. Unless of course the prize she offered was sexual favors, in which case he'd consider it.

•••••••••••••••••••

The night outside was eerily quiet, giving a strange sense of foreboding for what was about to come. The rain had passed while the work went on inside, leaving everything now damp and glistening under the clear sky.

The full moon cast an eerie silver glow down onto the sheltered service alley behind the Flaming Ace nightclub. Drops of rain water tapping from the overhead canopy and high up windowsills, tapping out a countdown to departure.

The bikers had completed their task in record time, having assembled all the assault rifles before stashing them along with the ready-made M16s in burlap sacks full of rice, sugar and other grainy substances. They had cleverly tucked the ammo in the specially made fruit crates -which had a hidden compartment in the base- and when covered with apples, oranges and the like, there was no way to tell enough firepower to bring down a small country was hidden beneath.

A second box truck -which was a donation from a haulage business that owed the Saints many favors- had arrived already half full with legitimate food supplies. Which allowed the bikers to hide their illegal wares amongst the more legitimate items, giving them another layer of protection against any prying eyes.

Everyone had pulled their weight; especially Leni which had come as a considerable surprise to Tig. He had maintained his position sitting on the counter top all night, just watching and smoking. Admiring her assembling a number of weapons, filling magazines, hauling heavy crates and sacks full of the tools of death. As much as he resisted admitting it, he was oddly aroused by it all. Seeing a pretty woman surrounded by so many dangerous things, organic _and_ mechanical. It wasn't something he was used to seeing, and he struggled to not enjoy it.

Despite the interesting view, his mind was still firmly set about where she should really stand in her involvement within the Saint's club. Sure, it looked like she knew how to boss people around but that didn't mean anything. All the Saints still held respect for her father and he had no doubt that the cleverly orchestrated operation was the product of _his_ hard work.

She looked too young to have the smarts needed to pull something like that together, but any fool could learn how to run it. No way would an South Asian Guerrilla army take to doing business direct with a silly little girl, who rode about on a motorbike. Trying to be just like all the big dangerous men she'd grown up around.

Still, regardless of how it all came about and what her level of value was, Tig had drawn some pleasure from watching her. It interested him to see that she actually pulled her weight, doing as much -if not more- than she expected the men to do. Stubbornness and an issue with delegation was a by-product of her struggle to prove herself. She didn't like to farm-out the duties that fell at her feet, wanting to do as much as she could by herself, so not to appear weak or needy. She never wanted to give her men a reason to doubt her strength and determination. If that meant always going the extra mile for their club, and carrying extra water - she would do it.

Once the truck was carefully sealed up with Mooch heading up into the driver's seat, the bikers hurried to saddle up for the road. Tig kept his eyes on Leni as she fed small white earphones under her hoodie and kutte, up through the neck opening where she took them and pushed them into her ears.

Tig's eyes narrowed in distaste -he knew some riders who did the same- it wasn't illegal but it was in a gray area of accepted biker practice. Music while traveling was usually something reserved for cages but he could see the appeal. As much as he loved the purr of his bike and the sounds of the world as he cut through it, a three-hour ride could get monotonous and leave a nasty buzzing in his ears. Yet he wouldn't admit maybe she had a good idea in plugging in some music.

Leni clipped her helmet under her chin and put on her gloves, and a pair of black framed protective glasses with slightly yellowed lenses, before taking a quick look around the lot to check everyone was ready. Her nerves were starting to get the better of her and she wanted to get moving. She knew things had been quiet for the club recently, but something still didn't feel right. With the help of the Sons, she'd eliminated the strongest and most obvious threat to her club, yet still at the back of her mind she worried there could be someone out on the roads waiting to finish what they had started.

Despite her reservations, she took a deep breath and told herself not to be pessimistic, before raising a gloved hand in signal to Mooch in the cab of the truck and in an instant the journey began.

The motorcycles fired up and Leni pulled off first, with Finn at her side. Keen to ride close, Tig quickly claimed his place diagonally behind her and Chibs drew in at his side. The others kept back, letting the truck roll out after the first four bikers before Happy, Connie, Juice and Half-Sack took their place at the rear. Heading off in tight convoy for the three-hour ride east, to Bodega Bay.

All around the city was sleeping, allowing them to move through its heart without hitting traffic. The midnight street were lonely and every one of the bikers felt conscious of the risks as they rolled through the empty city. Navigating the knot of urban streets before breaking out onto the relative safety of clear, minor roads. It added an hour on to the journey but they all knew it was much safer to stay off the highways and major roads when transporting such a dangerous load. Rivals and the police could be waiting around every corner, the lower their profile remained, the safer they would be.

With the city in their rear-view the world opened up into sprawling agricultural lands. Creepy white turbines from a wind farm stuck out of the darkness on the horizon -like the skeletons of looming giants- as they bled through the dead streets and quietly crept by the town of Fairfield. Making sure to move fast but cautiously, though the patches of population. Particularly those which were home to fragile alliances.

The world slept on as minutes turned to hours and the pack of bikers -and their cargo- sped through the desolate Californian landscapes of sand and grasslands. Putting mile after mile under their wheels as the white and golden headlight rays split the darkness ahead on the open roads. The roar of engines rocking all that they passed for just a moment before leaving silence in their wake once more.

The claustrophobia of the city seemed like a distant memory as they blazed on. Heading through the now dark, sun-scorched rolling hills that began to border the roads. Patches of green trees that would have made the view beautiful in the daylight seemed to make the desolation eerie in the darkness. The hilly lands on either side of the road made the area uninhabitable. Making the bikers feel even more uneasy, reminding them of how much further from the safety of their home they were going. Cautious and alert for anything that looked to spell danger for them in out the middle of nowhere.

The group kept perfect formation around the truck, cruising along as fast as they dared. Eyes sharp and ready for the first hint of blue and red lights or the sight of other colors that meant danger.

The camber of the land changed continually as they moved along through the hills, until it finally smoothed again and the surrounding landscape opened out once more to empty fields. Allowing for a cool breeze to cut through the convoy, bringing with it the feeling of freedom that every rider lived for.

Small sporadic pockets of life sprang up along the way, breaking the monotony of the ride. A cluster of farm houses, a dirt road leading to a ranch, a lonely gas station and the occasional intersection made sure the bikers kept alert but mostly the scenery remained the same. At times making them feel as if they were on a treadmill; going nowhere.

As they drew closer to their destination the natural earth walls began to build up around them again. The imposing hills were back -higher than before- baring down on the riders like curious cops. Giving them back the sense of agitation as the roads became tighter and more twisty; weaving through the hillsides for miles until the land opened up once more and finally allowed for a first glimpse of glistening ocean between the hills.

Knowing their journey was coming to an end, some hands went up in the air in celebration! Pointing out the beautiful moonlit ocean, gentle waves twinkling like diamonds. The sight alone renewed their energy -along with the hint of saltiness in the air- lifting them up out of the intensity of the long ride.

Leni slowed a little and pointed out an upcoming turn off; a small access road that lead down to the water front. The bikes pulled away from the main road and took the lane; powering up a slight incline and twisting around through a small gathering of houses before the world opened up again. Finally revealing the unspoilt, vast openness of the ocean.

The sides of the road began to show signs of sand as the bikers roared down toward the water. All unusually excited to see the ocean in all its darkened beauty.

As the lane narrowed the riders slowed down and focused on where Leni and Finn were leading them. Moving by a closed tollbooth and onward, passed two small rest stops to the center of the peninsular before easing off the road and onto a small, deserted parking lot which looked over nothing but ocean, lit by a huge full moon in a clear sky. It was a beautiful night and everyone there silently prayed -to whoever listened- that it wouldn't be the last one they saw that side of prison bars.

As the truck maneuvered around the parking lot to get into position, the bikers dismounted and headed for the edge of the concrete lot, to look out onto the warm sand and dark ocean. On the distant horizon they could see the faint lights of a freighter. In the foreground were the smaller, brighter lights of the larger vessels Tender. Two smaller boats were headed for land -flanked by jet-skis- to gather and transfer cargo onto the freighter bound for Indonesia.

Connie took off with Juice and Half-Sack, positioning them on watch at the roadside. Needing them to keep an eye out for any hints of trouble, while Finn and Leni guided the truck back to the point where the firm cement met with the soft sand. It was going to require _a lot_ of man power and heavy lifting to get the thirty odd sacks and fifteen crates out of the truck, down the sand and into to the boat but Leni and her men had done it before and had worked it down to an art.

She had cleverly planned the monthly exchanges to happen at the perfect date and time to coincide with the full moon and therefore - the highest tide. Allowing the boat to come as close to the shore as possible, in a bid to shorten the distance between delivery and collection. Knowing the closer the transport boat could get to land, the quicker the deal would be done and the danger averted.

As the small boat came closer to shore, Connie and Mooch began to open up the truck and Leni walked down to the water's edge with Finn. Tig wanted to follow but he knew he wasn't welcome. So he stood back besides the truck and watched as Leni waited. Her long dark ponytail and a few loose strands of hair dancing in the cool ocean breeze as she breathed in deep to clear the road dust from her head and lungs.

He couldn't see her face, but he knew she'd look beautiful with the ocean reflecting in her eyes. Something inside longed to stand besides her, show her some support and solidarity. Let her know that he wasn't as combative inside as he sometimes seemed. _No! He didn't want that! _The sea air had to be messing with him. She didn't need his help, or his encouragement and he didn't want to give it either. She was queen of that particular hill and he had no desire to bow show her any kind of allegiance. _Screw her!_

As soon as the boat hit land two Asian men got out; both dressed in camo pants and black windbreakers. One was powerful looking with dark, cold eyes but the other one -the shorter of the two, named Sasila- was softer in both body and expression.

He opened his arms to Leni and to Tig's surprise, her hugged her and exchanged a few -clearly friendly- words before sharing another warm welcome with Finn while she greeted the taller man, warrior like man, known as Yuda.

Tig couldn't believe she was getting respect from not one, _but two,_ more powerful looking men. Even the armed goons that dived out of the boat seemed cool with her. Her father had _obviously_ made sure his princess was respected by everyone, even in his untimely absence.

As Connie and Mooch started to unload the truck, bikers and guerrillas lined up in twos to take loads down to the boats, Chibs looked to Tig and nodded in question. "You gonna pull ya finger out of ya arse and help out?"

Tig made a face, but guessed he couldn't dodge it any longer. The quicker they got the job done, the quicker he could get his ass back to the safety of Charming. With a reluctant sigh, he moved in besides Chibs and waited to be passed some cargo.

Mooch gave him a grateful nod as he handed off a hefty sack full of rice and guns to Tig. Who effortlessly hoisted it up over his shoulder and nodded back before heading off after his brothers who were ahead of him in the sand. As he passed, he caught sight of Leni in the line, standing talking with Finn.

Their eyes met for a beat and he was ready to scowl at her but she didn't show any hostility, in fact - she looked kind of appreciative. He shrugged it off -not wanting to acknowledge how it really made him feel- and carried on down the sand. Smirking to himself, as the dirty side of his mind told him about the ways in which she could show him her gratitude once they got back to Charming.

Each of the bikers and the far Eastern help, made at least three trips up and down the sand from the truck to the water. Securely loading up the two Tender boats to the max with the hidden guns, before gathering close to the shore line to watch as Finn handed over the final sack and Sasila passed a huge duffle bag -with a considerable amount of money inside- to Connie.

"As usual, we sent the rest to your account from the ship..." He told her and Leni nodded.

"Don't mind if I check, do you? A girl can never be too careful."

"Go ahead!" He agreed and Leni pulled out her smart phone from the pocket of her jeans and tapped in some information. Waiting a moment for the information to load up, showing her that the second half of her clubs fee was safely sitting in a foreign bank account. Which had always acted as a small insurance policy should she and the club ever need it. Seeing all the zeros looking back at her made her warm inside. It was nice to see the account filling up again after it had been emptied, in a bid to help the club survive its dramas before she had to resort to a SAMCRO SOS.

"Looks good!" She smiled, putting the phone back in her pocket and stepping in to hug Sasila again.

"Anything else I can help with for you beautiful lady, you call me!" He told her with a thick accent and Tig's eyes damn near rolled out of his head.

Leni chuckled softly. "You're only a boat ride away, right?"

"Of course!" He nodded before kissing her hand and giving a polite nod to the small group of men surrounding them. Then, as quickly as he'd jumped off the boat, he hopped back on it and the deal was done.

Seeing that the exchange had been made, Juice and Half-Sack left their posts and headed down to the shoreline where everyone else was gathering to see the boats off. Juice had been watching the whole thing from the road, impressed by how quickly the truck had unloaded, bringing safety back to the bikers.

They all stood together for a moment, watching the boats fade into the dark ocean again before Leni spoke up with a heavy sigh. She knew from past experiences that the guys would hang around gossiping all night if she didn't take charge. "Can we go now? I'm freezing my tits off!"

Mooch was first to react with a hearty laugh. "I'll warm them up for ya!" He joked making grabby hands at her, she laughed and swatted him away playfully. There was no real sexual advance in what he said -it was just banter- but Tig burned inside. Watching with thin, jealous eyes as Mooch threw his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into him -giving her some body heat- as they walked back up the sand back to where their bikes were waiting.

Tig followed only with his eyes, staying rooted to the spot with most of the Sons close by. He suddenly felt more jealous than he'd ever been before. He could see the bond between Leni and all the men who worked with her. Similar to that which she had build with his brothers. The men respected her;_ loved _her. They joked and fooled around with her like they would one another. They had so much history with her, forming a strong and deep bond. A blind man could see it. Her gender didn't seem to bother them in the slightest; there were no lines in the sand between male and female - they were all in it together. He could see it now, yet he still couldn't get his head around the facts, or the way it all made him feel.

"This is quite the operation you've got here." Juice said thoughtfully to Finn as he kept watching the water. Tig shook his head dismissively -not surprised his brothers were bowled over- he knew she was just working what he daddy had set up for her. Any broad could do that! It was money, muscle and guns that bought her respect, _nothing else._

"Yep!" Finn agreed and as if he could read Tig's mind, he gave a few home truths. "She set this whole deal up herself...spent six weeks living on a shitty little tin boat in Indonesia working out a deal...Wasn't easy but she did it..." Tig looked at Finn like he had two heads. That had to be bullshit, _surely!_ But as Finn smiled and lit up his cigarette, something about his attitude told Tig there was nothing but truth and admiration in what he said.

"That's part of the reason we voted her in for pres..." He continued. "...She's knows a good deal when she sees it and she'll do whatever it takes to make it work for the club..." To Tig's further surprise, Finn looked him right in the eye, addressing him. "You know, you should cut her some slack!" Tig's hackles raised, ready to defend himself. "...If you can get past the fact she doesn't have a dick, you might realize you actually like her!" With that he took off for the parking lot; leaving Tig dumbfounded.

He felt like blowing up. Throwing Finn a piece of his mind, he didn't like being spoken to in such a way. Yet the rage inside him still felt impotent, how could he hit back against something that he knew was true. He knew the Saint -who wore the same tag as he did- was right, and it scared him to not know how much longer he could continue to deny it.

She was consistently proving that she was ready, willing and able to do anything the life required of her. Effortlessly doing all the things the men around her did, proving herself as an equal. _Earning_ respect, not _buying_ -or being born into- it as he'd so quickly assumed.

The other Sons began to filter away -casting him mocking smiles and nudges as they followed after Finn, leaving Tig to looked out at the empty ocean. Thinking about everything that had happened since she'd walked into his life. His mind flashing back to recall the tattoo of strange script she had inside her upper arm, wondering if she got the ink while living in Indonesia.

How the hell did she manage to convince Guerrillas to go into business with her little white-trash motorcycle club? How did she manage to pull together such a clever deal, with such attention to detail? Details a man probably would have overlooked. How did she manage to break down the walls of segregation to become so respected? And how the hell did she keep getting him so twisted up in knots?

Tig shook the thoughts out of his mind, telling himself he was just curious about her because the wrong head was doing the thinking. She wasn't anything special; men ran the world just fine. Sure, she'd apparently pulled this deal off but she was far from proving herself to him. She'd said herself she had made this exchange a hundred times, it was second nature. He'd need to see something more spontaneous from her before he'd cut her some slack and truly believe she was the force to be reckoned with, that her level of respect seemed to suggest. If she rose to that challenge, _maybe_ he'd change his mind about her. For a moment at least, before he thought up another way to try and disprove everything she was forcing him to believe.

There was only an hour or so before the sun would start breaking through the night, every single one of the bikers felt hungry and in need of a major caffeine intake to give them a boost for the journey back home. Pulling away from the beach, they retraced their route until they came to a highway intersection and in turn a gas station, alongside an all night diner.

Needing to refuel -in more ways than one- the convoy pulled in and parked up. Heading inside the warm, wood paneled diner, which was practically empty of people but full to bursting with delicious smells of good food and hot coffee.

The cloud of black leather that entered unnerved the staff behind the counter and saw to it that the two truckers sitting up at the counter made a sharp exit. The group instantly took the place over, pulling together two large tables at the far side of the diner, taking seats in no particular order. Saints sitting by Sons without hesitation.

Leni sat down next to Finn, her butt only managed to touch the seat for a second before she realized that Tig had chosen a seat diagonally opposite her. She winced inside, it was too late to sit somewhere else without making a scene; she'd have to put up with him.

Sighing to herself in defeat, a vision of her forcing him to wear her breakfast flashed before her eyes and she silently hoped that he wouldn't start any shit. It had been a good night -smooth for the most part- but she feared he had plans to put a dampener on it.

Defiantly, Connie lit up a cigarette and seeing his lack of respect for the laws, the others showed solidarity and followed suit. Juice happily chatted to Leni as Chibs and Happy pulled over a child's wooden highchair and forced Half-Sack out of his proper chair and into the tiny seat. Making her laugh as they wedged him back into place next to her at the table. Leaving the poor prospect barely able to balance, let alone read the menu to order.

"You want me to see if the nice lady has some crayons?" Tig teased and to his surprised, Leni gave a little laugh. Their eyes met for a moment but she looked away, not wanting to stare at him for a second longer than she dared. Afraid of what she might see, for many varying reasons.

"Yeah! Actually!" Half-Sack retorted. "I'm pretty awesome at coloring in!" The table laughed at him in disbelief.

Banter slowly began to build again, as the bikers looked over the large menus full of any and all foods they could possibly wish to eat. A young -and very nervous- waitress came over and offered them coffee, to which they all gratefully accepted, making her feel _slightly _more comfortable in the wolves den.

Leni noticed her hand was trembling a little as she took their order. She was a pretty blond woman, barely out of her twenties and probably a local from the surrounding small towns. It was obvious she was flustered by such an unusual crowd and so Leni offered her a warm smile, letting her know that she'd be in her corner if the men tried any shit.

"Sweetheart?" Chibs called to the waitress once she'd taken down the last of the required dishes. "You got any activities for the little one here?" He joked shoving Half-Sack, who smiled at her sheepishly.

"Sure!" She agreed, trying not to show her confusion and slight amusement.

Leni looked down the table at Chibs, sitting a body away from her and shook her head with a smile. The relief she felt now one more of her challenges was over felt wonderful, allowing her to fully enjoy the relaxed and playful atmosphere.

It was as if a weight had been lifted and despite having Tig's eyes to contend with, she felt comfortable surrounded -_mostly_- by men she knew _and_ trusted. She felt as if she could drop her guard, enjoy herself, be silly and embrace the light that was inside her. A light that was so often hidden by the darkness of old ghosts and evil deeds.

The waitress popped back and nervously passed Chibs a small pack with some pictures for coloring and tub of cheap marker pens. The table erupted in laughter, the men mocking Half-Sack, but thanking the naïve waitress who nervously scampered away.

Without hesitation, Half-Sack took the pack and pulled it open to take out what was inside. If the boys were going to make fun of him he was going to own it. He needed a distraction from the growing in his belly and he'd take any on offer.

Leni tried her best not to laugh but she couldn't help it, he looked so ridiculous -but very cute- half wedged into the highchair as he looked through the colorless cartoon pictures. Passing some over to Juice who sat across the table from him.

As the smells of cooking increased, most of the bikers at the far end of the table sipped coffee and chatted but Tig just stared. He didn't quite know if he was amused or bewildered by the way Juice and Half-Sack sat opposite each other, leaning into the middle of the table where they colored in a picture of a mouse together. Juice filled in the body while Half-Sack -who apparently had an artistic flare- was drawing a motorcycle, angled to appear like the mouse was riding it.

What intrigued Tig all the more was that Leni was laughing along with them. Having grabbed a marker for herself and reached over the table to draw horns on the mouse's head and a fork at the end of its tail. She didn't get much chance to be silly and carefree, and the opportunity was too much to resist. Juice's luminous grin and Half-Sack's child-like energy were infectious and magnetic to her.

Tig put it down to lack of sleep but he actually thought it was fun watching them mess around. Fully patched bikers, all packing heat, not one a stranger to murder and violence. Having just competed an arms deal less than an hour ago, and there they were, sitting in a diner in butt-fuck nowhere- coloring in. It seemed like a bizarre juxtaposition but the banter between the three of them made it impossible not to want to join in.

Out of the corner of her eye, Leni saw him pick up a marker and she looked up at him. "You better not be planning on drawing a cock!" She warned without malice.

"Nah..." Tig dismissed. "...But if you wanna draw mine you're welcome to...You'll need a bigger piece of paper though!" He said boldly, expecting Leni to scowl but she was in too good of a mood and instead she laughed. Tig felt his chest fill up; it was the first time he'd ever head her laugh at something he said in genuine good humor, not sarcasm.

Almost shyly, she looked away. Shaking her head as she went back to finishing the destruction of the mouse's innocence. Tig shook the soft thoughts of her out of his head and turned to his left, grabbing Juice's head and pulling it back.

"HEY!" He protested and squirmed trying to get away but he was caught in a headlock. Quickly Tig drew a comical mustache above his top lip before push his head back out of his way roughly. "Jesus!" Juice whined grabbing a napkin to try and rub it off, as the guys started laughing at the sight of him. "What'd you do that for?"

"Leave it...It's kinda sexy!" Leni joked, forcing Tig to feel a twinge of jealousy but he could tell she was just teasing. "You should give Happy one too!" Happy looked up from where he sat at the head of the table -stalling his conversation with Connie- to add up the situation and give a warning scowl.

"I will you cut you!" He warned Tig and they growled at each other from opposite ends of the long tables. Leni smiled inside, it was moments like those that she loved the most. The teasing amongst friends, the ruckus laughter, play fights and mocking. The world they lived in was a serious, dark most of the time but the bonds and the banter never failed to lighten things. Made it all the soul damaging bullshit and drama worthwhile.

The waitress eventually returned -with a doubly nervous brunette colleague- who helped her served them their food and refilled their coffees. The men wasted no time in wolfing down their food, but Leni ate with more decorum. Smiling to herself as the men continued to talk and tease one another with mouthfuls of food and coffee.

She joined in the conversation from time to time, noticing the way Tig was looking at her. With less hate, more controlled lust and a fresh dash of interest. She knew she shouldn't get used to the change -he'd hate her again by the time they'd finished eating- but it was nice to feel like they could be a part of something together. She needed him on board for the hijack she had coming up in a couple of days and slowly she was warming to the idea of getting to know who was really hiding behind his gorgeous blue eyes and intriguing dark persona.

•••••••••••••••••••

Tig was lost in a muddle of thoughts and unusually soft emotions as he sat at the table, his fellow bikers around him, all deep in conversation and playfulness. Full of good food and hopped up on caffeine, everyone was content and it allowed him to slip out of the moment and into himself for a while. Until _her_ voice pulled him back to reality.

"Hey! Watch it!" She ordered taking Tig's attention. "There's a steak knife here, you know?"

He'd missed what was said and looked confused, leaning forward a little to see she was looking at a smirking Mooch. He, Connie and Finn seemed to be finding something very funny - an inside joke which quickly tried to sour him.

"What's the deal with steak knives?" Juice asked, so Tig didn't have to.

Leni groaned, she really didn't want to have to tell the story. "Nothing!"

"Tell him!" Finn insisted.

Leni cut him an annoyed look but didn't fight it, she knew from experience that resistance just birthed more curiosity and encouragement. "Few years back, I was married...to a douche bag." She told, Juice chuckled and Tig's interest piqued. "...I'd had the ring on my finger for about a minute when I found out he was bangin' some whore in Reno..." Juice nodded as if she was only telling him the story but in fact the whole table was listening. "...I kept quiet...waited until he took me out to dinner one night, nice fancy restaurant...I ordered the most expensive thing on the menu which was Fillet Mignon steak..." Tig was fixed on her, he could guess where the story was going and a tingle ran through his crotch. "We ate dinner...made chit-chat..." She gave a facial shrug showing the casualness of it all. "...I drank a few bottles of wine...then, just when he thought he'd be gettin' sex as a thank you...I leant across the table to kiss him..." Leni paused, she wasn't sure if she should be proud of the story or ashamed but it was one worth telling. "I sunk my teeth into his lip and stabbed him in the hand with the steak knife."

Juice's mouth fell open. "Holy shit!" He gasped and the faces around the table winced.

Finn cut in. "Poor bastard still has the scars."

Leni nodded, trying not to notice the way Tig was looking at her with an odd smirk and twinkle in his eyes. "He's lucky I needed him for business purposes, 'cause if I didn't - I woulda cut off his dick and had 'em serve it to him as his entrée."

The table erupted into laugher and Tig grinned wider. The way she spoke about the event -like it was nothing out of the ordinary- reminded him a little of Gemma. The Queen of SAMCRO wasn't quite as crazy as the female president seemed but they had a lot of similarities, and he knew if he acknowledged them any further all hope of resisting Leni would be lost.

His mind began to wonder about what kind of team the two women would make. A vision of them storming into the chapel to take over flashed in his mind and the mere idea made his manhood shrink. Those two ball-breakers would be an attractive but dangerous partnership.

The banter at the table started again, bringing Leni into conversation with Chibs as Finn called over to the waitress for the bill. It was getting late, and the burst of energy that the food provided would only last so long. There was a long ride home and although they'd fly down the highway, it was best to hit the road while they were still full of life, and ready to take on anything that came their way.

The waitress nervously bought them over the bill and placed it on the table, getting a flirty smile from Happy, making her turn red and scamper away again. "She never pays!" Finn's voice came across the table to Half-Sack but took Tig's attention.

"Hey! I do if I lose the bet..." She defended.

"What bet?" Half-Sack asked curiously.

Leni scowled at Finn again, he was _really_ putting her on the spot. The look on his face said he was enjoying it too. She pulled her eyes off her sergeant-at-arms and looked around at the other men. "You guys wanna play a game to see who pays for breakfast?" She asked the Sons.

"Hell yeah!" Chibs agreed. "Happy loves your games!"

The nomad glared at his brother and the Sons laughed instantly and a few knowing smirks curled at the Saints lips as they again recalled the night she'd taught them how to play Shithead.

"What's the bet?" Tig asked from the end of the table nearest to her, wanting to move the conversation away from what had happened that night. Memories of the way her body teased and tempted him were still so fresh in him mind, and all too eager to screw with his buzz.

Leni looked down at the table and the items sitting there. Thinking for a moment to recall a trick she could use from her repertoire of proposition bets. It needed to be a good one, the men were smart and she loved a free breakfast.

"Okay..." She said the tables eyes were on her. "You all get one try...if you can do it...we'll pay for breakfast...if you can't...it's the Reaper's bill." The Sons looked at each other briefly, agreed, and Leni set about gathering a random collection of objects.

She placed her mug in the center of the table and then grabbed a fork and spoon to go with it. "...Right...You have to get the spoon into the mug by using only this fork." She held up a silver utensil and the table nodded. "The thing is, you can't actually_ hold_ the fork...you can touch it all you want but you can't pick it..._or anything else_, up off the table..."

"That's easy!" Half-Sack said and reached over to take his turn first. Pushing the fork under the spoon to try and scoop it up and into the cup.

"Ah-ah!" Leni dismissed. "You're lifting the fork!"

"Shit!" Half-Sack sighed and sank back into his uncomfortable seat.

"Give it to me!" Juice ordered and snatched the fork from the prospect. Feeling pretty confident he could succeed where the younger man had failed. He tried to use the handle to guide the spoon around and push it up the side of the mug but again, he lifted the fork off the tables surface and Leni stopped him.

Interest in the bet reached fever pitch, with Happy and Chibs getting out of their seats come closer to get a better look at the challenge. They both thought they knew how to do it but when they tried, they failed just as easily as their two brothers.

"Come on bro!" Happy insisted to Tig. "It's all on you!"

Tig sighed but sat up straight. He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he really wanted to get one over on Leni. He looked hard at what was on the table in front of him and thought about his options while she and the men watched him curiously.

The longer he looked, the more uncomfortable Leni felt. She didn't want to admit that he might stand a chance of figuring it out but the concentration on his face said it was certainly possible.

Thinking he had it in the bag, Tig carefully moved the spoon so that the tip of its handle was pressed flush up against the side of the mug. Next, he moved the fork around and lined it up with the spoon; carefully tucking the handle under the curve of the spoons bowl. He paused, looking things over again, feeling pretty sure his idea would work if he hit it right.

He looked up at Leni for a hint but found she was poker faced, and focused on his every move. He wanted to smirk, it was nice to feel her watching him so closely for a change.

Next, he looked around at all the silent faces watching him, to see if he was going to pull it off. Looking for a hint that he was on the right track, but he saw nothing. No one knew what he was doing, not even the Saints. Something inside told him with the right amount of force, his idea would work and his greedy confidence wanted the glory prematurely.

"Thanks for breakfast!" He said outright, watching a flicker of something resembling panic dance across Leni's eyes, as he slammed his fist down onto the prongs of the fork, launching the spoon up into the air.

It flipped rapidly three times before it came plummeting back down to earth. Landing perfectly in the center of the cup with a joyful tinkle.

The table erupted in cheers and applause as the Sons showed their gratitude to Tig with slaps on the back, but he didn't take his eyes off Leni's as they stared at each other across the table. He smirked at her, with lust and excitement in his eyes as she tried not to roll hers.

She was quietly impressed that he'd managed to achieve what usually stumped most people she challenged, and as much as she hated to admit it - she was oddly stimulated by his confidence about it all. She couldn't fight it for long and gave in with a sassy smile. Feeling heat rushing through her body at the way his icy blue eyes felt on her skin. It was crazy to think it, but she could possibly see herself liking him, _maybe_ - a tiny, _tiny_ bit.

"Don't forget to tip!" Tig grinned smugly and without another word he got up from the table and walked away. Leaving Leni sitting there shaking her head, impressed by how he'd turned her game on her and taken a leaf out of her book by cutting her dead. She bit her lip in thought for a moment -enjoying the odd buzz she felt inside- before turning to Finn.

"You're paying my share!" She told him playfully.

"What?" Finn exclaimed.

"You started this shit! We'd be splittin' it nine ways if you'da kept your mouth shut!"

Finn laughed. "We'd be eatin' for free, if you'd thought of a better bet!"

Leni scowled at him but she couldn't keep it up for long and ended up breaking out into a laugh. "Dick!" She scolded and shoved him playfully before getting to her feet and heading to the counter to settle the bill.

The dark sky was starting to show a faint hint of deepest blue as Leni exited the diner and moved over to the cluster of men standing around the truck and their bikes, laughing and joking with each other about things she couldn't hear. Her blue eyes caught on Tig's and they exchanged a look which held no aggression, but instead the tiniest hint of mutual respect passed between them.

Maybe it was the belly full of pancakes, bacon and coffee talking but at that moment, they both felt oddly good about sharing the same breathing space. Tig's head was still full of a million thoughts and his chest was plagued with a storm of emotions but rising above it all -even his sense of smugness in his achievement- was pleasure. Not the sexual kind -despite the urges to bend her over the nearest car and fuck her into the middle of the coming week- not even the cocky type of pleasure he got from showing someone up. He just felt nice inside, _warm_, content. He felt better than he had for a long time, but of course he wasn't prepared to give _her _the credit for it.

"Come on you guys!" Leni called out, taking her wanting eyes off Tig. "I gotta get home before my bike turns into a pumpkin!" The men laughed but did as she insisted and saddled up ready to take the waking roads back to more familiar territory.

The return ride was an hour shorter but it seemed like they practically flew home. The miles and the minutes whizzing by as they tore down the highway for safety. Knowing they would have to part ways as they hit the outskirts of Fairfield; the bikers slowed and pulled off the highway once clear of the town so they could say their goodbyes.

Leni hugged Mooch and Connie tightly, not realizing how much she'd missed the two over grown idiots until they were leaving her again. The Sons said their warm goodbyes to the Saints, suggestions of the clubs getting together for a party -once things had calmed down- being passed around. A strange camaraderie was growing between them all as it often did between friendly, allied clubs.

Leni left the cluster of bikers and steered Finn off to the edge of the road to talk with him alone. "How much longer you think I gotta stay in Charming?" She asked him, part of her desperate to go back to normal. The slightly bigger part hoping she had to stay a little while longer.

"Who knows babe. It's been real quiet these last few days...and I think you took out the right guys but I dunno... I'm not convinced it's over yet..." Finn warned, trying to be enthusiastic but still feeling like something wasn't right.

Leni dropped her eyes to the ground and nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, me either." Sure, they'd erased those responsible for delivering the death threat to her but something told Leni that there was someone else out there just waiting to enlist another lackey to do their bidding.

As much as she hated being away from the action, she knew she was safe in Charming. Able to run things with her laptop and cellphone almost as well as she could in person. The only thing that suffered for her hiding out, was her pride.

"Until we can pin Takahasi down and find out if he was behind all this...I want you out of the city." Leni tensed but she knew he was right and had her best interests in heart. "If he..._or someone else_...orchestrated all this shit, they'll be looking for retaliation soon..." Finn warned. "And I don't want you in the city when they come for us..." Leni opened her mouth to speak but he held his hand up to silence her, knowing exactly what she would say.

She was their leader, an important wheel in the fight against the club threats but she was also too valuable an asset to the club to risk her being put in unnecessary danger. "...We can all do our jobs a lot better when we know you're out of the dodge...So stay put with these guys for a bit longer..."

Leni tried not to sigh again, she hated how Finn could talk her down and make things she didn't agree with seem right. "You know I'm _your_ boss right?" She reminded him, poking him in the chest with a sweet smile in her eyes. "I should be telling_ you_ how this goes."

Finn smiled lovingly. He respected Leni as a boss but he loved her like a sister. The thought of something bad happening to her ate away at him in the night. If he could only guarantee her safety by keeping her away from him and their world, that's what he had to do.

His hands were too full with plugging the holes in the boat to be alert enough for the threats against her. "It's my responsibility to protect you and this club...I ain't been doing a great job of it lately, so make my life easier - shut up with the complainin' and stay in Charming until I say you can come home..._Okay?_"

Leni shook her head in frustration, considering defiance for a second but instead she gave a soft smile. "Aye-aye Cap'n!" She hated hiding out away from her responsibilities. Her instincts telling her she needed to be with her brothers, her ornery side demanding that she stood up to the threat or met it head on. It wasn't getting any easier to accept that she needed to stay away, but keeping out of danger hadn't caused any problems for her club. _In fact_, by the looks of it, staying with the Sons had lead to things calming down for her men in the city.

"You got the details on the diamonds yet?" Finn asked and Leni shook her head.

"Monday..." She told him, knowing that was when her guy _in-the-know _was meeting her with all the info.

"Let me know the deal...I trust these guys to help you, but if you need me..."

Leni cut him off. "I will call you!" She nodded and Finn pulled her in for a firm but loving hug. Kissing her forehead softly and enjoying their embrace for a moment before he said - "Get out of here!"

She smiled up at him, a touch of sadness in her eyes but she did as she was told. Breaking their embrace and heading back to get on her bike once again. As she fastened her helmet, she watched Finn say his goodbye to the Sons. Thanking them for their help and watching out for Leni.

Once again they were back on the road. Juice and Half-Sack bought up the rear of the pack. Tig and Happy up front and Leni riding center with Chibs. An odd feeling settled over her as she rode Highway twelve through dusty lands and lush greenery that paved the way back to Charming.

She knew what homesickness felt like and it wasn't that which was riding on her back. Sure she missed her regular life and her brothers, but she felt safe riding with the men of SAMCRO. She knew she was paying them to ride at her side but something inside said they were starting to see her as more than just a cash-cow. Maybe she was just tired -the sun was coming up rapidly, casting that muted dawn light across the lands- but at that moment she felt content. Hell, even Trager was starting to grow on her and she never thought _that _would happen, especially after their altercation in the garage.

Yet he'd had many opportunities since, to give her a hard time -a chance to finally get revenge by fucking her over- but he had gone easy on her. His reward coming in the way he beat her at her own game, winning the bet. He looked smug about it_ sure_, but then so would she if she'd won a free breakfast.

She knew he was a dangerous, twisted man but time and time again something kept on telling her that he was so much more than his reputation suggested, and the urge to find out just what that was grew with every moment she spent around him.

Leni and the Sons arrived back in Charming just before dawn on Sunday morning. As they rolled through town and one by one the bikers separated off from the pack headed for their respective homes, eventually leaving only Leni and Tig riding together back to the clubhouse. They pulled into the lot and parked up together in silence, each unsure exactly what to say to the other.

The place was dead, everyone from the nightlife had gone home, and the garage was closed for the day. They both tried hard not to look at each other as they dismounted and headed inside. Tig took the lead a few feet ahead, walking straight to the clubhouse and unlocking to door to let them both in. It was so dark and cold, no signs of the usual life it contained. It looks kind of creepy without the warmth and noise that filled it for at least sixteen hours a day, _every day._

She hesitated near the door, cautiously watching what Tig was doing before choosing her own path. He settled at the bar -and to her surprise- spoke out in the silence. "You wanna drink?" He offered, his voice deep, almost like he was holding something back.

She was surprised by his offer, it was unexpected -bordering on a peace offering- but she couldn't accept. She shook her head softly. "Thanks, but I don't drink before midday." Tig raised his eyebrows at her, he didn't know anyone who had that rule. "Gotta have some morals in this life of corruption." She shrugged.

"Guess so." He said flatly, feeling disappointment sinking his stomach. They looked at each other for a moment, his eyes mostly blank but with the slightest suggestion of his deepest desire. Her eyes looked tired, bordering on irritable yet showed clear signs of gratitude. It was nice to see him look so accepting, almost warm.

"G'night." She whispered, zapped of energy that would enable her to engage with him in any meaningful way.

"I think it's technically good mornin'..." He replied, feeling a pull to keep her there for a little longer.

Leni smiled softly, he was right. "Yeah..." She agreed. "...Sleep well, when you get around to it." Tig gave he a nod and looked back to his beer for a moment as she passed behind him -headed for her room- before his eyes moved again to watch her disappear down the corridor.

He tilted his head to the side in contemplation, not sure what he thought or felt about her anymore. She had an amazing way of screwing with his head, even when she wasn't being combative. He blew out a sigh and knocked back some more beer.

He hated the mere of idea of coming around to like the bitch but with everything he'd learned about her that night -everything he'd experienced- he had to admit he was impressed and that only served to make his desire for her double. He was starting to want to in her good books, inside her head, as well as in between her legs and he knew all together _that_ was a recipe for disaster.

**A/N: **_Thanks for reading guys, I hope you enjoyed it. As always, I'd love to hear what you all think :o) x _


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